THE 

TRAVELLER^ 

5IBDITATIONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS 

"WRITTEN 

ON BOARD A MAN OP WAR, 

TO WHICH IS ADDED, 

CONVERSE WITH THE AVORLD UNSEEN 



BY JAMES MEIKLE. 

Late Surgeon at Camwath. 



■ "iO WHICH IS PREFIXED, 

THE LIFE O? THE AUTHOti. 

NEW-YORK: 
l*.UBLISHED BY RICHARD SCOTT, 

VO. S76 PEARL'STRBTIT. 






^ . ^ C- 



-•^^A^A^^^^ ^"^f^y^, 



Printed by Largin 8i Thompson, 
No. 5 Bur] in i> Slip. 

■■1U I , . . .I ■..! » i«i '. .i I , ■ , , H ■i iiiiiiii, ■ ■ m-M II 



CONTENTS. 



MFE OF THE AUTHOR, ..... pagej^S 

THE TRAVELLER—MEDITATION 

1. Going abroad, T5 

^. On taking farewell, ■? "74 

3. The temper of him that goes abroad, - - - 76 

4. On finding many passengers on shore, - - - ib. 
0. On arriving at a strange city, ----- 77 

5. Good 'and bad men mixed together in the world 7^ 

7. On being enabled to resist a temptation, - - 7^ 

8. The promises, a divine treasure, ----- 8i 

9. The sacred assurance, -------- 90 

40. On pumping the ship, -•-•>.•-- 92 
11. On the anchor of the ship, - ---*•- 95 

n. The sails, ----- 94 

13. On the compass and helm, -•-*--».»- 96 

14. Provisions and stores ----»--» 97 

15. Ballast, 99 

t6. The more we see of sin, the more we should hate 

an, 104 

17. Knowing a sin to be committed, - - - - i&» 

18. A man of war, 103 

19. The difference between the righteous and the 

guilty, - - - 10$ 

20. The judgment of swearers according to equity, 108 

21. Thinking on a dead friend, 109 

22. The union between Christ and believers, ^ - 111 

93. Imperfect attainments, 11^ 

24, On kiss's allow^ance, -.------ IIS 



f4 CdN^ENtS. 

25. On the blowing up of a ship, ----/-- II4 

26. Some slain by mercies as well as by judgments, 116 
Tt. On a fine fleet, 118 

28. Setting sail, - - . . 120 

29. Time to be redeemed, ----»--- 121 

50, In view of an engagement, 122 

51. On our Lord displaying his divinity on the sea, 125 
32. A memorandum for him that goes abroad, - - 12^ 
S3, How the Sabbath, or Lord's day is to be sancti- 
fied, ----- 121' 

34. Anchoring off an enemy's coast, - - - - 129 

35. Coasting on a country of another religion - 130 

36. The masts, --- 1^ 

37. Upon being put under confinement aboard, - 13S 

38. The prophet's description of the wicked, - - ltS4 

39. On the patience of God with sinners, - - - 13& 

40. On the excellency of the Christian religion 

above the Jewish with respect to a traveller, 137 

41. Coasting along another king's dominions, - - 138 
42* On hearing from friends, 139 

43. Ob the w ell of the ship, - - 141 

44. The company of the wicked, ------ 14S 

45. On awaking at midnight, 144 

46. On one cursing and swearing at an affront, - 146 

47. God's equity in the eternity of torment, - - 147 
^^8. Instructions from the communications of the 

wicked, - - 14^ 

49. Sorrow for sin, a sign of grace, 151 

50. On hearing a rumor of peace, 152 

51. The noble principle, -------- 153 

62. Comparisons, ----------^ 155 

53. Our sorrow for sm too contracted, - - - - 158 

54. Prisoners, -- ----- 159 

Si^. A ship falling foul ef another, ----- 160. 



CiONTElVi;?. 5 

56 War, - - 162 

5T. Unfortunate retreat, 16S 

58. The natural man insensible of mercy, - - - 164 
5^. The word of God irresistible 165 

60. Docking ships, l^'*' 

61. On going into harbor, -------- 168 

6£. On taking in large provisions, ITO 

63. Comfort and terror in one consideration, - - ITl 
-64. On being in hot climates in a few days, - - IT^ 

65. An high wind preferable to a calm, - - - ' 1"^^ 
€l6. On sailing near different nations, - - - - 174 
6T. On reaching a port after being long at sea, - 1T5 

68. On a man that died by liquor, 1T6 

69. The earth, a globe, - - - ITS 

TO. On ships mistaking one another, 1T9 

71. "What we ought to remember, ------ 181 

72. The patience of God very great, - - - - 18^ 

73. Delusion, 183 

74. On seeing slaves at work, 184 

75. Quarantine, ----------- 185 

76. The Needle, 18T 

77. In a Roman-catholic church, ------189 

78. In a hot climate, ----- 191 

79. Fishers, 192 

80. In a southern climate, -------- 194 

81. On a court-martial, --------^ 196" 

%}2. On some who were burnt by a quantity of gun- 
powder catching fire in time of an engage- 
ment, 197 

43. On a sea-engagement, fought August 17, - - 199 
84. On prisoners, ----------- 200 

fi5. A reflection on the royal Psalmist's expression, 
Psalm xlii. 7. ** All thy waves and thy bil- 
lows are gone over me^" ------ S02 



6 CONTENTS. 

06. On a short indisposition, . - - - - ^ = = ±q^ 

8T. On putting out a light, - - - - - - - - 2Q4 

B8. On dividing the spoil, ----.-«*- 505 

B9. A daily catechism for seamen, * - » - , 206 

90. A proper inspection, ----*-.«, 207 

91. On a great storm of thunder, lightning, and rain, 2Q9 

92. On being interrupted in secret prayer, - - - 211 

93. On the armour of soldieri, ,.----• /&, 

94. All things made up in Christ, 213^ 

95. The birth-day, - - 215 

^6. Time past never returns, ------- 21T 

9T. On ships steering different courses with the same 

wind, - - ..-..- 219 

98. On being driven back to the harbor, - - - 2£0 

99. The spirits of just men made perfect. - - - 221 

100. Going to engage, - . - 222 

101. Arguments to resignation, .--«-- 223 

102. Saints have no cause to complain, ----- 2^5 

103. Approaching fruition, --,------ 226 

104. Infinite and eternal properties of the bliss above, 22T 

105. Bad company, -- --- 228 

106. On going beyond the line, - 230 

lOT. On a popish procession to prevent the retuin 

of an earthquake, -------- 231 

108. Sailing in the Torrid Zone, ------ 232 

109. Under the direct Meridian, ----- ^ 234 

110. Under the Meridian, the sun and moon high, 236 

111. A squall of rain, lightning, and thunder, - 237 

112. Emulation, - 239 

113. Birth-day, 241 

,114. Though we walk on earth our conversation 

should be in heaven, ------- 24^ 

115. Great love in God, that we may love God, - 244 

116. Providence to }?e ap|)FOved o^ - - - • - 248 



liT. Bright views, and bold language above, - - ^50 

118. Declining years, - - -- 25 S 

119. The expected change, -------- 25S 

120. Arguments for faith in God, - 255 

121. The traveller at home. ^ - . - - - - 25'G 



CONVEKSE WITH THE WORLD UNSEED . 

i. Future gloiy, . . ^ . . ♦ 261 

2. On want of divine love, 262 

3. We grope in the dark while here below, . . 26S 
\. All things work for good to the saints, . . 264 
$. A soul converted, joy among the angels, . . 265 

6. Earth not our home, 266 

7. We should live above the world, i6. 

8. Joy awaits the saints, ........ 26T 

9. The joy of saints unseen, 26§ 

10. Heaven the best inheritance, ib. 

11. Enemies overthrown, 2T0 

12. Exercise of the blessed, ........ 271 

13. Complaints of spiritual languor, . * ^ . . 272 

14. Preparation for heaven, ......*. 273 

15. The eternal Sabbath, ......... 274 

16. Indifference to the world, *..*;*. 275' 

17. The disembodied saint, » . i . * . » . 276- 

18. A check for not meditating on divine things . 28^ 

19. Approbation of trying providences, * i ; . 283 

20. Faith's triumph over affliction, . . . . ; 284 

21. A sweet prospect of future bliss, ..... 285~ 
^2. The ravishing employment of saints in gloiy, ib. 
23. A reprehension for decay in grace, . '. . . 2$6- 
i4. The noble indifTereiiCe" ; .../.... Vi, 



S contents'. 

25. No happiness below, .......*. 2ST 

26. God a never-failing portion, 2&S 

2T. God cteims the whole heart, ib^ 

28. The best employment, 289 

.2^. On the death of a friend, ....... i&, 

30. Divine wisdom in our various lots, * . . . 290 

31. The mind too little on heaven, 291 

32. The duty of the aged saint, ib. 

S3. Afflictions will attend us to our last, v . v . ^92 



ITHE 



LIFE 



05? 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. 



JL HERE are perhaps few persons who havci 
perused an author's writings with much pleasure and ad- 
vantage, who feel not a desire to know the character and 
history of one who has contributed so largely to their 
entertainment and instruction. The biography, there- 
fore, of favourite authors, if not barren of incidents, or 
awkwardly executed, is a species of writing which will 
always be well received. It introduces us to familiarity 
with persons whom we are disposed to revere, and exhi- 
bits our instructors in the interesting light of acquaintan- 
ces and friends. Besides, when we find, by authentica- 
ted records of their life, that they were good men, we sit 
down to the perusal of their writings with the most fa- 
vourable dispositions for deriving benefit from what we 
read, and are edified by the pleasing persuasion that they 
lived as they wrote, and felt on their own hearts the in- 
estimable value of that religion which they so clearly 
teach, and so warmly recommend. 

The writings of few men require information respect- 
ing their au-thor more than those of Mr. Meikle. They 
consist chiefly of short, detached essays, written in haste^ 
and commonly finished at one sitting ; or are a record of 
the impressions made on his mind at the instant by the 
objects with whicli ho was surroun'ie'^-. cr th"e in^Uhy^s 



14 THE LIFE OE • 

which had occurred. They seldom assume a didactic forrn^ 
or profess a regular discussion of any particular point : 
they rather express the author's own persuasion and feel- 
ings-^ the subject, the resolutions of duty which, under 
their influence, he formed, or the hopes by which he was 
animated. A knowledge of the man becomes necessary, 
therefore, not only to enable us to appreciate his merits 
as a writer, but to qualify us for understanding many pas- 
sages of his writings, or at least for entering fully into his 
sentiments and feelings. 

How far the following account of Mr. Meikle will 
contribute either to the entertainment or the edification 
of those who may be pleased to peruse it, the writer of 
it is unable to predict. He can say, however, with con- 
fidence, that he has not been deficient in his inquiries re- 
specting his author, and that although in several instan- 
ces his diligence has been unsuccessful, in others it has 
been rewarded by discoveries which he hopes have not 
been unprofitable to himself, and which may^through the 
divine blessing, be useful to others. He has presumed to 
affirm nothing at random, or on mere conjecture ; and 
the principal source from which his information has be^n 
drawn, is a variety of memorandums and loose papers 
found in the author's own repositories. 

Mr. James Meikle was born at Carnwath, a village 
in the upper part of Clydesdale, on the 19th of May, O. 
S. 1T30. It was his uniform custom, during at least the 
last forty years of his life, to observe the anniversary of 
his birth ; and the 30th of May, N. S. appears frequently, 
both in his published and manuscript papers, as a season 
in which he sought retirement from the world, and devo- 
ted the hours which he could command from business to 
grateful recollections of the care of Providence, to the 
review of his past life, to meditation on death, and pre- 
paration for eternity. This method of commemorating . 
the day of his entrance on life, he justly considers as 
more suited to the condition of a creature who is born 
to die, and who expects to live after death, than the me- 
thods which are more generally in use ; and he reicom- 
mends it to others, from the conviction that it had not 
been without profit to himself. 

His father, Mr. George Meikle, appears to have been 
a very pious, but a very poor man. He practised at 



MS. JAMES MEIKLE. 15 

Carnvvath as a surgeon and druggist ; but his business at 
that period, in a poor and thinly-peopled country, cannot 
be supposed to have yielded such profits as to enable him 
with ease to support a family of ten children, the gtfeater 
part of whom were delicate, and cut off before their aged 
parent. Besides, the small savings of a very insufficient 
income were unprofitably wasted in honest, but unsuccess- 
ful attempts to obtain possession of a considerable pro- 
perty in the neighbourhood of Hamilton, of which he ap- 
pears to have been rightful heir ; and debts were contrac- 
ted which bore very heavy on him in the decline of life, 
when ihe necessities of his family increased, and, through 
his frequent incapacity to visit patients at a distance, his 
means of supplying them diminished. It cannot now 
serve any valuable purpose to be more particular on this 
subject. The estate is in the indisputable possession of 
another family, although the greater part of the titles 
are still in the possession of Mr. Meikle's descendants. 
It is only proper to remark, that various attempts were 
made by his son to recover it, which excited hopes, and 
issued in disappointments, to which the accurate reader 
of his writings will observe many allusions ; and to add, 
that the loss or abstraction of an essential paper defeated 
all his attempts, till it became too late to disturb the pos- 
sessor by challenging his right. 

James, the subject of this Memoir, was the fifth child 
of the family, three sens and a daughter having been born 
before hhn. When revieAving the care of Providence 
over him, he remarks, that his life during infancy was of- 
ten in jeopardy, and piously adopts the Psalmist's words, 
" I am as a wonder unto many ; my praise shall be con- 
tinually of thee." At the age of four, he narrowly es- 
caped perishing in a deep well into which he had fallen ; 
and besides, he suffered so severely, and was so enfeebled 
by the small-pox, measles, chincough, and other diseases 
incident to childhood, that it was not till the ninth year 
of his age that he could be sent to school. Of this early 
period of his life, he observes, in one of his papers, that 
he can recollect little, except that his parents had taught 
him to pray twice a-day ; that he thought even his child- 
ish games would not go right with him, if he should ne^ 
gleet his prayers ; and that therefore, when it occurred 
to him at play that he had omitted them, he sometimes 



iO THE LIFE 4lE 

broke off from his companions, and after having said 
them, returned with more confidence to his amusements. 
He expresses his gratitude to his parents for their instruc- 
tions, and warmly recommends it to others to teach their 
children to pray ; but notwithstanding this symptom, as 
some would style it, of early piety, produced by their 
means, he states it as the conviction of his maturer judg- 
ment, that he had then no right notions of divine things. 
" I was taught to pray," he says, " and prayed, when I 
knew not what prayer was; but now I would not give 
over prayer for the universe." * 

At school he made considerable proficiency in his educa- 
tion, till the death of his teacher. A new teacher suc- 
ceeded, who does not appear to have been equally atten- 
tive to his pupil, for a reason which must always have 
great weight with selfish men, because his parents w^ere 
poor. Other employment was found for him than the 
lessons of the day : " I was much toiled by running his 
errands, which I was necessitated to do through poverty." ^ 
When be aftjerwards reflected on this period of his life, 
he concluded with Solomon, that " childhood and youtli 
are vanity," and deplored the waste of it in thoughtless-^ 
ness and sin. " It can afford me," he says, " nothing but 
melancholy reflections, did not the blood of Jesus Christ 
cleanse from all sin. How many months were spent 
without one serious thought of God, or one prayer ta 
the God of my life 1 In what scenes of vanity and fol^ 
ly did I spend my youth ! God and my own heart were 
and are conscious of as much sin as might damn me, 
though I was preserved from any gross outbreakings. 
When I look back, this is a proper confession for me, 
*' Lord, thou knowest my folly, and my sins are not hid 
from thee. Remember not the errors of my youth, but 
pardon mine iniquity, for it is great." 

After he had arrived at the age of thirteen or fourteen 
he began to relish religion more than ever he had done 
before. Three things in particular are remarked by hini 
concerning himself at this period. First, That, though 
then young, he had conceived a warm regard for the ho- 
ly scriptures, and loved the duty of secret prayer. " I 
retired by myself, and read, and prayed ; and put on re^ 
solutions to perform this heavenly duty oftener than twice 
a-dayo So from thp Psalpiist's resolution I copied mine. 



MR. JAME3 MEIKLE. IT 

" As for me, I will call upon God, and the Lord shall save 
me. Evening and morning, and at noon, will I pray and 
cry aloud, and he shall hear my voice." Secondly, That 
the Sabbath began to become sweet to him. " From the 
instructioa of my parents, the example of Christian 
neighbours, and, might I add, the grace of God within 
me, I had a profound veneration for the sabbath, and was 
displeased with the least profanation of it. O that it 
WBre so still ! but I must say it with shame, I have not li- 
ved up to the love of mine espousals, the kindness of ray 
youth." Thirdly, That he Avas often employed in religious 
meditation, and found inexpressible pleasure in it. *' Some^ 
times I would have wondered to find one whistling alone 
by the way, thinking he had better be meditating on di- 
vine things, as I did : This sometimes was my happy ex- 
ercise." In what manner, however, the gracious change 
which about this time took place on him was effected, no- 
thing has been found among his papei"^ distinctly to shew : 
but from some expressions employed by him, there is rea- 
son to conclude that he had no remarkable experience of 
legal terror. '' Some," says he, *' are overcome by the 
sweetness of religion into a love with it, as Zacheus waa 
drawn by Christ's charming voice, so that without dread 
or delay he received him joyfully. " Thy word was fouaid 
of me, and I did eat it, and it became the rejoicing of ^yl 
heart." J 

He was now in his fifteenth year, and, as he expresses? 
it, " grown to the age of thinking and choosing for him- 
self," when, for the first time, he went '' from choice" to 
hear a sermon by one of the ministers who had some years 
before separated from the communion of the established 
church. The sermon was remarkably blessed to him ; he 
was led to inquire into the grounds of the Secession ; and 
his inquiries issued in an attachment which continued 
imdiminished through life. " From this time, being about 
fifteen or sixteen, I heard none else, and at last joined 
the Secession ; and alas I that the increasing defections 
of the Church of Scotland, for which my heart trembles, 
should make me still approve of my procedure." 

The following year, an event of a very afflictive kind 
took place, which appears to have been eminently useful 
to him. The hand of God inflicted a heavy stroke on the 
family, in the death of their eldest son, William, at the 

B 2 



18 THE LIFE Oi* 

age of twenty-five. He had been early religious; but 
having been educated as a surgeon, he soon removed from 
tinder, the immediate inspection of his parents, and served 
for some years a gentlemen of that profession in Dunse, 
who made religion n© part of his concern ; and the con- 
sequence was, that his early impressions were greatly effa- 
ced by the conversation and e^^^ample of those with whom 
he had intercourse. Having at length formed the resolu- 
tion of going to sea, he w^ent to Carnwath to take fare- 
well of his parents. His stay having been protracted 
beyond his expectation or w^ish, they remarked with grief, 
the sad change which had taken place during his absence, 
and employed all the influence of their prayers, and of 
their expostulations with him, for his reformation. For 
some time all was without effect. Providence, however, 
continuing by various means to throw obstacles in the way 
of his going abroad, he was at length brought to see the 
hand of Heaven in it, and led to more serious thoughts 
than before. '' Ephraim is an heifer ; but God passed 
over her fair neck ;*' so, says his brother, " it fared with 
him. He began to consider his ways, to relish religion, 
to be conscientious in the duty of prayer ; and not only 
was his conversation but converse changed, to the no 
small joy of his friends." After this happy change he 
began to assist his father in his business, and promised to 
be the joy and the support of his declining years. But 
ike ways of God are often mysterious. He was seized 
with a nervous fever, which in the short space of eight 
flays laid him silent in death, on the 19th of April, 1746. 
*^' Joy and grief," his brother remarks, *"' were mingled on 
this occasion ; grief at his death, but joy that he died in 
such a hopeful condition." He adds, " The conversation 
and prayers of his Chrisiiaji acquaintances who visited 
him during his illness, made an impression on my mind, 
which I hope will never be effaced." 

The shock which this dispensation gave to his aged pa- 
rents, may be more easily conceived than expressed. 
They had buried six sons, besides a daughter, and in the 
grave with the eldest, they now burled their hopes of 
comfortable snpport in the decline of life. James, their 
only remaining son, was in the 17th year of his age; 
promising enough indeed, but unprovided for, and incapa- 
D]e of assisting the family in their straits^ It had for 



MR> JAMES MEIKLE. 19 

some time been his desire to prosecute his studies with a 
view to the holy ministry ; but the situation of his pa- 
rents, did not furnish him with the means. After spend-^ 
ing the summer in contrivances how to proceed, and in 
the perusal of such books as Avere within his reach, he 
formed the resolution of going to Edinburgh in the begin- 
ning of winter, along with his mother, whose presence 
was necessary there on account of the law-suit formerly 
mentioned. On his arrival, he engaged a private teacher 
to assist him in his studies, who, for reasons known to 
himself, after receiving his money, chose within a few 
%veeks suddenly to leave the place ; and being unable to 
engage another, he found it necessary to return to Carn- 
wath, leaving his mother behind him, and disappointed 
for the present in his favorite objoct. 

A greater calamity succeeded. He had not been long 
at home, before his father was seized with a violent lit 
of asthiiia, which carried him off in a few~ days, in the 
month of February, 1748 ; and before he had opportuni- 
ty to inform his mother, and elder sister who had gone to 
visit her, of his illness. 

The shattered remains of the family, deprived of their 
last support, after spending sometime in unavailing grief, 
and melancholy reflections on the destitute condition to 
which they were reduced, removed to Edinburgh before 
Whitsunday ; '' but with what money," says Mr. Meikle, 
*' will scarcely be believed ; with little more than suffi- 
cient to pay carriage, and bear our charfxes by the way." 
God however, raised up a friend to aid them in their ne- 
cessity. *' A gentlewoman who lived next door to us, 
who had been a daughter of many afflictions, but to v»^hom 
they had been sanctified, and who spent nmch of her time 
In prayer, showed us no little kindness." By the humane 
attentions of this lady, and the industry/ of 3Irs. Meikle 
and her elder daughter, who span or sowed as they found 
employment, the few wants of the family were supplied 
during the summer. 

But James had now entered the 19th year of his age, 
with little education, and without an occupation by which 
he could earn his daily biead. His mind was still directed 
towards the holy ministry, and eagerly bent on acquiring 
the education which he deemed necessary as a prepara- 
Tjon for it : but Providence seemed to refuse his services 



%{) THE LIFE OE 

in the gospel, by defeating alt his attempts to enter the 
university. For some time he flattered himself with the 
hope of obtaining a bursary, or, as it is styled in England, ; 
an exhibition : and he considered it as already secured by 
the generous exertions of a gentleman who took an inter- 
est in his affairs, when an unexpected objection was start- 
ed against him, which blasted all his prospects. Party 
prejudices were strong at that time against those who had 
separated from the established church, and he was refused 
the busary because he was a Seceder. 

Despairing now of getting forward in his education, 
and yet unwilling to abandon his favourite pursuit, he felt 
ashamed of his situation, in the 19th year of his age, poor, 
in health, and yet doing nothing for his own maintenance ; 
and he confesses, that when any old acquaintance inquir- 
ed how he was employed, he often wist not what to say. 
' Yet he was not absolutely idle. " All the summer," he 
says, *' I spent amongst ray books in a melancholy soli^ 
tude, and contracted acquaintance with very few." As a 
species of recreation from the severer studies in which he 
was engaged, he amused himself with an attempt to ver- 
sify the book of Job, and proceeded as far as the twenti- 
eth chapter ; but, '' on a second reading I found it," he 
says, " so flat, and tending rather to obscure than to illus- 
trate the beauties of that noble book, that I never trans- 
scribed it. Notwithstanding, I found a double advantage 
from my labor ; for, first, I spent many honrs with plea- 
sure, which I might otherwise have spent in repining 
thoughts at the providence of God; and, secondly, I 
grew much better acquainted with the book of Job, a book 
greatly adapted to my situation, than I could have grown 
by an ordinary reading." It appears, indeed, that the 
pleasure he found at this period in writing of div^ine things 
in verse, gave occasion to that custom of versifying his 
meditations, in which he persevered to the very close of 
life, and which has produced a number of metrical perfor- 
mances which is truly astonishing*, many hundreds of po- 
ems, all on religious subjects, and, sufficient to fill six or 
seven volumes of the size of the present, being found 
amongst his papers. 

This melancholy period of extreme poverty, disappoint- 
ment, and anxious suspense, continued with little varia- 
tion during the whole of the ensuing year. Providence 



MR. JAMEB MEIKLE. Zl 

deprived the family of the friend whose humane atten- 
tions have been ah-eady mentioned. Besides, after their 
expectations of a speedy and favorable termination of 
the law-suit had been considerably raised, they were dash- 
ed at once to the ground by a decision which put their 
hopes of relief from that quarter more distant than ever. 
*' Like the sinning Jews," he says, " we expected much, 
but it came to little ; for it was entirely cut oif, till better 
proof could be brought that it was not prescribed." So 
low, indeed were their circumstances, that at Whitsunday, 
1T49, they found it a matter of the greatest dilhculty to 
procure a decent lodging of two apartments, because they 
could neither find caution to the landlord, nor, as is custo- 
mary when caution cannot be found, lay down one half 
of the rent. Yet when they were brought low, God hel- 
ped them. They were enabled to endure their afflictions 
without mummring at the divine dispensations; and be- 
fcides, they were seasonably relieved by the sympathizing 
liberality of some good Christians, who, Mr. Meikle re- 
marks, increased the'favor by the truly delicate and Chris- 
tian manner in which they confered it. 

With regard to himself, Mr. IMeikle observes, that al- 
though he was unable to enter the university, he found 
means occasionally to receive instruction from j)rivate 
teachers ; and that the adversity of this period of his life 
was blessed to him for spiritual good. He expresses his 
warmest gratitude to God for three things in particular ; 
first, that his proud spirit, which at first rose against the 
idea of dependence on the charity of others, was brought 
down to submission and thankfulness; secondly, that 
amidst his difficulties, he was enabled to resist solicitations 
to go to the Indies, where he would have been removed 
from the means of grace, and where the friend who urged 
him to go was soon cut off by the unhealthiness of the 
climate ; and, thirdly, that when he met with some old 
acquaintances who had come to town to study at the uni- 
versity, he was enabled to hold his peace, neither envy- 
ing prosperity, nor daring to dispute the conduct of Prov- 
idence towards himself. His soul prospered when out- 
ward things were adverse. He took much pleasure in 
prayer, and statedly performed the duty four times a-day : 
*' This," adds he, " I say, not out of vain glory, but to 
Stir up those who have much leisure and opportunity to 



3S THE LIFE OE 

abound in this delightful and profitable exercise." And 
he remarks, as the result of his own happy experience at 
this time, *' that sanctified affliction, the chastisement of 
our heavenly Father, is no small mercy to them that are 
Eigbtly exercised thereby; that it is honied affliction 
which brings the soul nearer to God ; and that (alluding 
to Hos. ii. 14.) it is God's way, in the time of melancholy 
solitude, to speak comfortably to the soul.'' Yet his spir- 
itual prosperity was not without alloy ; for he complains 
bitterly of the motions of sin within him, and remarks 
with grief, that for some part of this time he did not live 
so near to God as he ought. 

At the beginning of the winter, 1749, finding his ina- 
bility to enter the literary classes of the university as 
great as ^ver, and satisfied that it was his duty to submit 
to what appeared to be the will of Providence, and take 
some measures for his future maintenance, he formed the 
resolution of commencing the study of medicine: yet 
Bot, he says, as his ultimate object, but as a means of 
helping him forward, if it should be the will of God, by 
the profits of his practice, in his main design of entering 
into the sacred office. The different professors of medi- 
cine, to whom it appears his father had been knowm, dis- 
played great generosity in giving bim liberty to attend 
their lectures without payment of the customaiy fees ; yet 
even with this advantage, be could not avoid contracting 
some sJiiall debts which his circumstances did not enable 
him for several 3^ears to discharge. 

As a student of medicine, he now entered on a new 
scene, and became exposed to temptations from which he 
had hitherto been free. " I w^as afraid of forgetting God 
ray Saviour, as I was to change my savoury solitude for a 
correspondence with an indifferent sort of youths ; but! 
still kept up the form of religion as usual, w^hat of the 
power I dare not say." " My fellow-students, some of 
\v hom were gentlemen of fortune, were obliging to me, and 
ga%"e me access at pleasure to their books ; though other- 
wise their company w-as by no means to be desired, as they 
were accustomed to swear in conversation." — He adds 
afte-'wards, "I was grieved at the oaths I heard, for ray 
conscience was then tender : O that it were tender still I" 

How long Mr, Meikle studied raedicine, and when he 
eoramenced practice as a surgeon, cannot be ascertained, 



MR. JAMES ^EIKLE. £S 

as his papers for some years about this period have unhap- 
pily fallen by. It is probable that he removed to his na- 
tive village of Carnvvath^ towards the close of the year 
1750, where he continued i;o act as a surgeon till the 
spring of 1T58. Two loose papers have been found, from 
which this is concluded. The one, written in the Latia 
language, and styled Petiiio ad Deurn^ 1T50, leads to the 
conclusion, that when he wrote it, he had formed the re- 
solution of practising as a temporary expedient, but had 
not yet carried it into effect. It is, as far as its meaning 
can now be collected, to the following effect : " Conscious 
of sin, deserving and fearing divine wrath, but hoping 
for salvation through the blood of Christ, I have formerly 
made, and now again make known to thee, O God ! the 
inmost thoughts and desires of my heart ; and trusting 
that thou wilt graciously answer, intreat thee to hear and 
grant these my requests. 1. Look on me with favour, for 
the sake of Jesus Christ my Lord, in whom thou art well 
pleased, and preserve me from every thing secret or pub- 
lic, which is offensive to thee. 2. As I will, through 
thy good providence, have arrived at a majority at the 
commencement of the ensuing summer, enable me to re- 
collect with lively gratitude thy past care of me, and 
prosper me in Avhat I propose at Carnwath, that it may be 
subservient to my main design. 3. * * * 4. Deal 
with me as it pleases thee, in respect of riches, and all oth* 
er temporal good things ; only grant me a place amongst 
thy sanctified ones, and I am content. 5. 1 most earnestly 
request that I may be honoured to serve thee in the gos- 
pel, preaching the words of truth and eternal life to ray 
fellow-sinners all the days of my life. Hear me, I pray 
thee, and answer me in thy time." The other paper, 
w'hich contains a confession of sins, and a dedication of 
himself anew to God, is dated Dec. 15, 1T50, and con- 
tains this petition : *' I seek thy direction in my business, 
and in my present views. O grant thy blessing, while I 
give the glory of all to thee 1" from which it is conjectu- 
red, that he had begun business as a surgeon, while hi? 
views were still directed to the ministry as his great aim 
i n life. 

The reference which has just now been made to these 
papers, suggests the propriety of remarking, that it was 
3Ir. Meikle's custom occasionally to set apart a day, or a 



24 THE LIFE OE 

part of a day, to solemn meditation, self-examination, and 
prayer ; and that on such occasions he wrote down, as a 
means of fixing his mind, the heads of what at the time 
principally engaged his thoughts. This he did not mere- 
ly when at home, but as often as he could find opportuni- 
ty, with sufficient secresy, Avhen abroad. Thus, during 
the years he was at sea, we find him repeatedly engaged 
in this manner, in the fields near Plymouth, on a retired 
part of the rock of Gibralter, in a forest betAveen L.eg- 
fcorn and Pisa, in Italy, and in a solitary spot of the 
island of St.^Helena. Many of these loose papers have 
been found, which it would swell this account of him too 
much to transcribe. Part of one of them, however, is 
here subjoined as a specimen, and because, after those 
which have been referred to, it is the first distinct notice of 
him, after his removal from Edinburgh to Carnwath. It 
runs thus : 

'-*' Under a sense of my sins and unmerited mercies, I de- 
sire through grace, in sincerity and humility of soul, to 
approach to the author of all my mercies, and to lay be- 
fore thee, O merciful Father I all my designs, desiring 
thy divine direction. 

" And in the first place, I confess mine own sins, the 
sins of my family and people, the sins of Church and state. 
I desire to be humbled under my natural proneness to evil 
and aversion to good for my many sinful thoughts, which 
thou, O Lord, knoAvest : for my wrong conceptions of 
the great Jehovah, and the smallness of my holy fear 
when in his presence, calling on him before whom all the 
earth should tremble. I also desire to be humbled for my 
limiting God, as if he were not Almighty ; for not pla- 
cing ail my faith and hope on him alone, but on appear- 
ances and probabilities ; for my ingratitude to God for his 
many matchless mercies to me in feeding and clothing 
me, and giving me favour in the eyes of men with whom 
I had to do. Providence has never failed me, but ay sup- 
plied me ; yet in the time of prosperity I sinned, and join- 
ed with sinners in their follies, which now I lament, and 
deijire to be humbled for ; as also under the stroke of my 
vounger sister's death. O to learn the language of thy 
rod ! 

"O loiHl'. I lament my detention from thy ordinan- 



MB» JAMES MEIKLE. 25 

ces ;* and O that thou wouldest cast my lot so (not that 
I prescribe to God) that I may serve thee in thy temple 
day and night ! I desire to be humbled for all my prevail- 
ing lusts and passions ; for my spiritual pride, ignorance 
of the things of God, barrenness under the gospel, luke- 
warmnegs about the things of Christ; and for my careless- 
ness about religious duties, so that while the love of 
Christ should constrain me, custom leads me. Ah ! that 
ever I should doubt the good will of him that dwelt in 
the bush, and forget the day when he heard my cry and 
delivered me out of the hand of my fierce afflictions, man- 
ifesting his mighty power .t I desire to be humbled for 
my earthly mindedness and my desires after temporal 
things, riches, honour, and glory, which perish and pass 
away. I desire to be humbled for my breach of former 
engagements, and for that great mountain of sins accumu- 
lated on me since the last time I was before thee in this 
manner." * * * 

" And now I desire to lay before thee my petitions. 
And first of all, O to be daily getting nearer and nearer 
thee ; to be growing more and more acquainted with 
lovely Jesus, the light of the higher house, increasing 
more and more in grace, becoming more and more like 
thee, and daily less conformed to the world ; to be delight- 
ing more and more in spiritual things, given more and 
more to meditation on the glory to be revealed, loving 
him more and more who loved me ! O to be delighting in 
God all the. day long, living in his fear as before him al- 
ways, learning more and more submission to his disposals 
in providence, and more and more persuaded of the recti- 
tude of his will, the equity of his law, the longness of his 
patienqe, and his care of his own. O to get the better of 
prevailing sin, and that which easily besets me. 

" O Lord ! I lay another petition before thee, and beg 
thou w ilt hear it. O let me come into thy service (in the 
ministry) and breathe my last under thy colours, a volun- 
teer ; and to this end I beg a blessing on all my studies. 
O Lord ! hear me. 

* Camwatli is at a gieat distance from Davie's Dyke, in the parish 
of Cambusnetlian, where Mr Meikle then attended public worship, 
and tfie necessary calls of business often prevented his attendance, 
even when the distance and weather would not have done it. 

tHe had lately beibre been dangevously ill : and, besides, had la- 
boured under great dejection of soul. 
c 



26 THB LIFE OJ^ 1 

*' Also, I lay before thee my design of courtship with 
M. R. If she be thine, one in whom the fear of GodMg, 
may she be mine, if for thy glory and my good. Grant 
me direction in this matter, and give me favour in her 
eyes.* 

" O prosper me in my business ! Thy blessing be on 
my endeavours for the health and cure of thy creatures. 
Let never the greed of money get a hold of my heart ; 
keep me from covetousness, and all wrong ends in follow- 
ing my business. Bless, Lord, the work^of my hands. 

*' May thy bounty so provide for me, as that I may 
not harm the world, or die in their debt. I hope thou 
wilt hear. 

*^ Never let any apprentice or servant dwell in my | 
house, who shall never dwell with thee ; and let not the 1 
love of money make me choose the workers of iniquity f 
to be with me. 

" O look on Zion, Zion that is thine own ! Remember 
thy promise, O God I and do her good. Heal her great 
breaeht for thy name's sake. 

" Cause peace, concord, and love, to be in my family 
like a little river, and thy fear like a mighty stream. 

" Now, O Lord, in the hope that thou wilt hear, I lay 
all my petitions before thee. Choose what thou wilt, cafit 
away what thou wilt, I will be content. I commit myseir 
to thee. I take thee as before, for my God and Father, 
for my Saviour, for my sanctifier for ever. To all my for- 
mer engagements I again subscribe, begging that thou 
wouldest provide for me, so that I may attend thine ordi- 
dances. O hear ! And I desire in truth, O terrible Jeho- 
vah ! to call these heavens over my head, the hills and 
mountains about me, the growing grass and corn, to be 
witnesses, that I this day subscribe with my hand to be, 
through good report and bad report, thine, even thine. 
Amen, amen. So be it. 

July, 1T52. JAMES MEIKLE.'' 

It is evident from this paper, that a year and a half 

* The death of this young woman some time after gave him great 
distress. He speaks afterwards with the fullest confidence of her pi- 
ety. 

t ThedivisioB which ha^ latel y before taken place in the Sece^ 



MK. JAMES MEIKLE. £T 

after he had begun business as a surgeon, his original re- 
solution of employing his business only as a temporary 
expedient to help him forward to the ministry, remained 
unaltered. Nor did he finally abandon this design till 
the year 1T63, some time after his return from the navy. 
This was the constant subject of his prayers ; this exci- 
ted him to application to his business ; to this his private 
studies were uniformly directed. Poverty distressed him, 
chiefly because it obstructed his progress ; success in bu- 
siness elated him, only as it revived his languishing hopes 
of attaining the summit of his ambition. His heart was 
in divinity, while h« practised surgery. It escaped not 
the observation of his pastor, the Rev. David Horn, that 
he had never seen a person take so little pleasure in dig- 
coursing on subjects connected with his own line of busi« 
ness ; and he himself remarks it as an evidence of the 
csLve of God, that, notwithstanding his eagerness to ac- 
quire by his business, as a surgeon, what would enable 
"him to devote his time to divinity and the previous stu- 
dies, he was never permitted to exceed in his charges for 
medicine or attendance, in order the sooner to gain his 
object. 

It may here be as proper, therefore, as any where else, 
to inqure into the ideas which he had of that office which 
he was so anxious to fill ; and into the motives which ex- 
cited him so eagerly to desire it. Happily two papers 
have been found in his hand-writing which serve to illus- 
trate his views. The first is dated Carnwath, July 20, 
1755, and begins thus : *' O Lord ! conscious of the levi- 
ty of mind I am vexed with, my soon wearying in reli- 
gious exercises, and my great unfitness for the weighty 
work of the ministry, I desire to be humbled, and to im- 
plore thy kindness, and in the sincerity of my heart to lay 
before thee ray motives and my resolutions." After sta- 
ting various important considerations which moved him 
to desire to be employed in the work of the ministry, he 
adds these memorable words : " As I feel a constant op- 
position in me to all that is holy and divine, I desire to 
be chained, as it were, by office to religion, and by a close 
exercise therein, and, breathing after communion with 
God, to get, through his grace, the antipathy in my heart 
against what is good dispelled, as far as my militant state 
can allow of." His resolutions are, that if God should 



%i5 THE LIFE OR 

put him into the ministry, he would, through good and 
bad report, follow Christ; would be willing to be the 
meanest of his servants ;, would not take it ill though he 
were despised, reproached, persecuted for Christ's sake ; 
and was determined to preach, not for vulgar applause, 
but to advance his glory, and to promote the welfare of 
souls. " I lay my account,'* he adds, " with hardships, 
inconveniences, troubles, and mockings from the world, 
and the men of the world. Nor is it in view of profit or 
honor that I desire to change my occupation, for by kind 
providence I am now as well as I can wish ; but I would 
fain be poor for Christ's sake, who, though he v/as rich, 
for my sake became poor, that I through his poverty 
might be made rich. I shall never be surprised to find 
all winds blow against me, and every thing blasted in ray 
temporal estate ; it shall be my joy, if the cause of God 
and the gospel prosper in my hands. And finally, I re- 
solve to be honest to the trust committed to me, and in all 
things, to act not only as before thee, but as one that 
must give an account of my stewardship, that I may do 
it with joy." He concludes : " Receive this mite into thy 
mighty treasury, O Lord I and grant my request ; and I 
foeg of thee that thou wouldest bless me with a sound 
jjudgraent, clear insight into the things of God, a strong 
memory, and with every faculty to fit me for so great a 
work." 

The other paper, which was written some years -efter, 
consists of two parts — the one, a list of all the scriptural 
qualifications of a gospel-minister, arranged in order, that 
by it he might be guided in self-examination and prayer 
•—the other, a series of advices respecting the conduct 
proper to be pursued by a minister of the gospel, written 
with the evident intention of assisting his own mind in 
weighing the importance and duties of the office to which 
he aspired. As these advices not only shew how con- 
scientious he was in his views, but contain hints which 
may be profitable to those whom God has put into the 
ministry, they are here subjoined. 

" Contract not much carnal acquaintance. 

*' Learn to be abused without becoming angry. 

" Meddle not much with the affairs of this life. 

" Argue coolly, and from conscience, not for victory. 

" Affect not a shew of sanctimony before men. 



MB. JA3IES MEIKLE. ^9 

^' Be not ashamed of piety in any company. 

*^ Whatever else thou readest, read a double portion in 
the scriptures of truth. 

*' Shun familiarity with the men of the world, else ce- 
lestial truths, as uttered by thee, will be contemned. 

" Care not much about thine own reputation, so truth 
and the gospel suffer not^ 

" Learn daily more of Christ and more of thyself, else 
thy other studies will profit little. 

" Seek not great things for thyself, seek not great ap- 
probation, great applause, great conveniences, or a great 
income ; but seek great things for Christ, seek to him 
great glory, many converts, and much fruits of righteous- 
ness. 

" Consider the preciousness of souls, the value of sal- 
vation, the weight of the sacred charge, the terrors of the 
Almighty, the awful day of account, and thine own utter 
inability — then shalt thou have no vain confidence, but 
depend on God alone. 

" Please all men in the truth, but wound not the trath 
to please any. 

*' Set thy affections on things above, so shall spiritual 
things be thy delight, and not thy burden. 

"In company, always study to drop something for edi- 
fication, and so in a manner preach occasionally, as well 
as statedly. 

" Be much with God in secret, so shall God be with 
thee in public. 

" See that the carriage of every one in thy family be a 
pattern to all observers, and not matter of reproach, to 
the joy of enemies. 

" Let thy charge be continually on thy mind, and not 
only pray with them in public, and from house to house, 
but carry them to thy closet, and pray for them in pri- 
vate. 

" Neglect not to visit them at all proper times, but es- 
pecially embrace those golden opportunities, sickness and 
affliction. 

" Have a fellow-feeling with the sufferings of all thy 
Sock. 

" Let thy conversation be uniform ; and what thon 
r)reachest on Sabbath, practise through the weeko 



so THE LIFE Ot: 

" Not only press charity on the wealthy, but let thy 
example, according to thy power, shew the way. 

" Rather lend thine ear to reproaches than applauses : 
the first may let us see some foible or failing with which 
we are chargeable ; but the Jast is very apt to kindle self- 
conceit, of which every one has enough. 

" Act the Christian even in eating and drinking ; and 
be not, when at a feast, though temperate at other times, 
a glutton or a wine-bibber. 

" With respect to thy charge consider that thou art 
made the steward of a family, and therefore must, seeing 
the great Master allows it, provide food for all, fiesh for 
the strong, and milk for the weak. See that the worship 
of God be set up in all families, and performed tAvice a- 
day, and that parents instruct their children in private 
prayer, to say grace at meat, and to keep the Sabbath. 
hee that the rising generation under thy care grow in 
knowledge, and be well acquainted with the scriptures. 
Be well acquainted with the knoAvledge and conversation 
of every one that is admitted to the Lord's table. 

" Keep an exact list or catalogue of thy charge ; who 
is pious or profligate, knowing or ignorant, in affluence 
or exigence, in health or sick ; and read it often, 

" Give a pleasant ear to the commendations of others, 
but always frown away the friend that would commend 
thee to thy face. 

" Be sparing in producing specimens of thy learning, 
or criticisms on the words in the original especially before 
the unlearned ; for a nice grammarian may be but a no- 
vice in the gospel. 

" In preaching, aim at God's glory and the good of 
souls ; and then, without deviating from that rule, please 
all men as much as possible. 

" Let thy sermons be always the fruit of much study 
and application ; and never dare to serve God or his 
people with that which cost thee nought. 

" Never be bigotted to thine own opinions, or inter- 
pretations of particular texts, lest, in establishing them, 
thou be seeking after thine own fame ; but if the thoughts 
of others be as orthodox and consonant to the analogy of 
faitb, if it be necessary for peace sake, acquiesce in them. 

" Never shew a fondness for new doctrines, which 
qimong Christians, are little better than new gods were 



MR. JAMES MEIKLEi 31 

among the Israelites ; but contend earnestly for the faith 
once (and but once, because sufficiently) delivered to the 
saints in the scriptures of truth ; and still walk in that 
way which, though very old, is very good." 

Such were the views which Mr. Meikle had formed to 
himself of the nature, importance, and duties of the min- 
isterial office, and of the qmlifications necessary for the 
proper discharge of it ; anJso conscientious and upright 
does he appear to have been .^ the motives by which he 
was influenced to aspire at the honour of filling it. Yet 
though possessed of talents ^^ which, if properly culti- 
vated, might have fitted hiniror great usefulness in the 
church, it pleased God, who chooses whom he will to 
carry forward the designs of his grace, to decline his of- 
fers of service in the gospel. Providence continued, from 
the first moment that he formed the design, to hedge up 
his way by one means or another, so that he could not 
find his desired path, till at length he abandoned the at- 
tempt, and became satisfied that it was enough that it had 
been in his heart to build the house of the Lord. The 
obstructions which prevented his progress in the earlier 
part of his life, have been already stated ; the following 
narrative will sufficiently detail those which succeeded 
and finally disappointed his hopes. 

When he began the study of medicine, and afterwards 
commenced business it was, only, as has been mentioned, 
as a secondary object. He hoped, by a few years prac- 
tice, to save as much money as would support him and 
the family during the course of his studies for the minis^ 
^ry ; but after making the trial he found this impractica- 
ble. When he went to Carnwath, he had nothing ; he 
was even somewhat in debt. His mother and two sisters 
were left behind in Edinburgh till his prospect of success 
should justify their removal ; and, in the mean while, he 
resided for twelve months in a mean house, without a ser- 
vant, and almost without furniture. His diligence and 
frugality soon placed him in such circumstances, that he 
ventured, in the course of the year 1T51, to move to a 
different house, and bring the family to reside with him ; 
but the expence of furniture, the charge of the family's 
mainteniince, the distress and death of his younger sister 
by severe disorder with which he was himself attacked, 
^jjd which for some time threatened his life, together 



52 THE LIFE OF 

with the narrowness of his income, left him, at the close 
of the year 1T53, considerably in debt, and as incapable 
of prosecuting his favorite purpose as at any preceding 
period. 

It was perhaps this concurrence of circumstances, ad- 
verse in themselves, and discouraging with respect to his 
future views, which in part jfeasioned a dejection of spi- 
rits under which he labored aoout this time, and which it 
does not appear that he e^er experienced in any great de- 
gree at any future perio^of life. The duration of his 
distress of mind, and the^^icular manner in which it 
afflicted him, cannot now; owing to the loss of a few , 
lea*» es of manuscript, be known. It appears, however, 
that his spiritual gloom was suddenly dispelled, and that 
the apprehensions of divine indignation with which he 
was assailed, gave place to holy serenity and joy. " The 
light of God's countenance beamed again on my soul, as 
I was walking alone from church, and made my wander- 
ing thoughts return to him as their centre, and the rest of . 
my soul ; so I went on rejoicing." On the review of his 
condition, he found that he had himself only to blame for 
the distress which he had suffered ; for " he had not prized 
the presence of God which for some time he remarkably 
enjoyed, nor improved those happy moments as he should 
have done. He had, besides, indulged in spiritual pridei 
and carnal security ; not looking narroAvly lest any un-^ 
observed sins might provoke God to frown on him, boast- 
ing that his mountain Avas established, and resting mora 
on the bliss of enjojinent, than on him whom he enjoy^ 
ed." 

For some time after this, outward matters assumed a 
more promising appearance. His business increased ; he 
was enabled to discharge some troublesome debts ; and 
he began to entertain the hope of soon abandoning sur- 
gery for divinity. In a little, however, the clouds retur* 
ned after the rain ; he was seized with trouble of body,- 
and this again was succeeded by distress of circumstan- 
ces. 

Towards the end of January, 1T55, he felt liimself. one; 
day much indisposed, but went about business as usual. 
"I slept," says he, *' at the house of an acquaintance 
who was always tlear to me, his discourse ever edifying, 
and his prayers like one of those who are already on the 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. S3 

tforders of the better country, into which he soon after 
entered. I was very uneasy during the night, and still more 
so next day ; but I got home, though with difficulty, not 
being willing to be absent from my own house, either in 
sickness or in death. I immediately took to bed, being 
seized with a bad fever. Now, thought I, I am perhaps to 
die, and shall die in debt, and leave my family destitute. 
But what I lamented most was, that I should sleep in si- 
lence, and not serve the Lord in the land of the living, 
nor execute the designs which I had formed for the ad- 
vancement of his glory. These thoughts tossed my weak 
spirits much ; but my eternal concerns gave me no unea- 
siness ; for I can say, that at that time I could commit my 
spirit into the hands of the God of truth, my gracious 
[Redeemer, knowing in whom I had believed. Thus vi- 
sited by my acquaintances, 1 continued till about the 13th 
or 15th day of the fever, when these words of the 118th 
psalm, " I shall not die, but live and declare the works 
of the Lord," were, as it were, audibly spoken to me be- 
tween sleeping and waking ; and my faith helped me to 
lay hold thereon, so that ray fears fled, and I was no more 
sad. Praises then dwelt on my faultering tongue, and I 
gpake within myself to God, what moment I had respite 
from the disease, yea, I told my sister, when weeping at 
my bed-side, that I should not die. From the ^Oth day 
I began to amend. I now thought that my life, in a 
double respect, belonged to God, who had redeemed me 
from going down to the grave, and resolved, if he should 
be pleased to accept of me, to devote the remainder of 
my days to his service in the gospel, and to arrange my 
affairs so as to begin my studies next Martinmas." 

Before Martinmas came, however, new difficulties oc- 
curred to obstruct his design. This was the more afflict- 
ing, because he could not exculpate himself from having 
involved himself in them by his own imprudence. His 
debts were diminishing, his business increasing, and, had 
he had no further views than continuance in business, he 
found himself, on the 20th of July,* * by the kindness of 
Providence, as well as he could Avish. But he hastily as- 
pired at conveniences which he ought for a while to have 
declined ; for, finding it disagreeable to be changing his 
habitation, as he had done every season, he purchased a 

* See p. 27. 



34 THE LIFE Oi 

small house in the village, and thus increased his debisj 
This was not all ; when he took possession of it at Whit-^ 
Sunday, 1T56, some repairs became absolutely necessary^ 
to rentier it habitable ; and though a small sum must have 
been sufficient for the purchase and reparation of a thatch-| 
ed house, yet it was more than he could afford withoutf 
borrowing, and it led to embarrassments which ultimate- 
ly defeated his intention of prosecuting his studies. " I 
cannot help thinking that I erred, for I should have es- 
sayed to build the temple of the Lord, before I chose to 
git in mine ownhoUse." 

It were tedious to enter into a minute detail of the em- 
barrassments and distresses of the following year. Some 
of his creditors became impatient, and took legal steps to 
enforce payment. He examined the state of his affairs, 
and found that his property considerably exceeded his 
debts ; but he had imprudently locked it up, and was un- 
able to raise what was necessary to satisfy their demands. 
The idea of bankruptcy was terrible to him ; *' for," says 
lie, " the name of honesty w^as always dear to me ; anit 
I cannot excuse people's becoming bankrupt, unless some 
great loss or series of misfortunes have befallen them ;" 
but how to escape it, occasioned him many anxious and 
perplexing thoughts. At last, after satisfying the most 
clamorous of his creditors, by giving to some full, and to 
others partial payment, he resolved, May 1T57, on com- 
mitting the management of his property, which was more 
than sufficient to answer all demands, on him, to a friend, 
and betake himself to sea. 

It was not without much serious deliberation that he 
formed this resolution. By continuing in Camwath, he 
suspected he could never attain the object which he had 
so long in view ; " for," says he, " although I could live 
very w^ell, yet, without demanding higher prices than my 
patients v>^ere able to afford, I could not clear my debts, 
and lay up any thing for attending the university, and 
studying divinity." Resolving, therefore, to make ano- 
ther effort to attain his grand object, he sat down, and 
weighed the arguments in favour of going to sea and 
against it, that he might satisfy his conscience res'pecting 
what was his duty. His reasonings, as stated by himself, 
were after this manner : Pro. " Have I not engaged to 
«se every effort to get forward to the ministry ?" Contra. 
^' I have, and am determined, though I remain at home. 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. S5 

nbt to desist/' — Pro, " What method, then, shall now be 
taken to forward this intention?" Contra. " None that 
is sinful." — Pro. *' But is it sinful to go aboard a man of 
\var as a surgeon ?" Contra. " Not positively, but it may 
be so by consequence." — Pro. " How so?" Contra. " Be- 
cause, by going, I shall throw myself into bad company^ 
expose myself to hear the sacred name profaned, and see 
the Sabbath broken, cast myself out of the church, and 
neither enjoy ordinances, nor the fellowship of the godly." 
Pro. " I grant it ; but I can say that I propose to do this 
not out of choice, nor directly for gain. I will study to 
reprove vice, and may have opportunity to do good. O 
grant it, though it were but to one soul I I shall have a 
separate place in the ship, and will study to keep it as 
close as possible, that I may not be grieved with hearing 
and seeing wickedness, nor tempted to commit it. And 
as for sermons, except a few in summer, I much oftener 
want than enjoy them, here where I am : may I have 
God's presence."— Cori?ra. " But what moves me to go ?" 
Pro. " To get the means of going forward to the minis- 
try, to prepare myself for it, to pursue my studies with 
this view, and to have occasion and subject for some divine 
meditations. 

Having fhu^ satisfied his conscience respecting the step 
he was to take, he accepted of an offer made him to be 
surgeon to a ship which traded to the coast of Guinea. 
Every thing in his opinion was prepared, and already he 
had taken farewell of many of his friends, when, on the 
day previous to his intended departure, the 5th of July, 
1757, Providence blasted his design. He had paid off' 
almost all his creditors, as fast as his accounts came in. 
There Was nothing to give him uneasiness except one bill, 
and this his agent had agreed to manage for him, having 
ample security for repayment in the property which'\vas 
left behind ; but the creditor took alarm at his going 
abroad, affected to distrust the agent who was to manage 
his affairs in his absenc^, and laid him under arrest. Not 
a friend to whom he applied would advance the money 
for him, or even become his surety. In this emergency, 
it became necessary to part v\ ith what money he had re- 
verved for defraying the expeiices of his journey to Eng- 
land ; and "when tlie day came wiiich," says he, *^ I 
but not God, had appointed." he fuund himself compel- 
led to remain at home. 



36 THE LIFE OE 

How greatly he.must have been mortified by disappomt* 
raent, attended with circumstances of such publicity, it is 
easy to conceive. It is more interesting to remark mth 
what Christian temper he bore it. During the tumult of 
his passions, he wrote Med. XI. of '^ Solitude Sweetened." 
In which, after reviewing the providence of God, ex- 
pressing his faith in the divine wisdom and care, and re- 
joicing in the hope of eternal life, he breaks out in tri- 
umph : "I shall yet see his kindness large as my faith, 
and his mercy measure with my widest expectations ;" 
and prays, " May I never get the desire ©f my heart but 
with God's blessing, nor the request of my lips but with 
his good will. After writing this Meditation, he re- 
marks that he was easy in mind, and dropped for the pre- 
sent the idea of going abroad ; and when he reflected on 
his duty to his friends who had abandoned him in his dis- 
tress, " I could not," he says, " but forgive them, and 
even cease in mine own mind to be angry at them." 

It was not long before he became satisfied that he had 
not acted wisely in accepting of a place in a Guinea ship, 
and that God had dealt kindly in restraining him from 
countenanekig a trade, on the iniquity of which he had 
not sufficiently reflected. As, however, no other method 
occured by which he could extricate himself from the em- 
barrassments of his situation, and be enabled to prosecute? 
his studies, he still entertained thoughts of going to sea. 
and in the month of December resolved on entering the 
Royal Navy. It was time of war, and a situation a? 
surgeon's mate Avas easily procured. Before he left home, 
he endeavoured, as before, to satisfy his conscience re- 
specting the lawfulness of his scheme, and drew up a se- 
ries of resolutions respecting the line of conduct which 
he was determined to pursue. One of the considerations 
which determined him to persist in going to sea, is too 
memorable, in consequence of the publication of this vo- 
lume, and a former, entitled '* Solitude Sweetened," te^ 
be omitted : " That if I shall write any thing for the sup« 
port of virtue, or the suppression of vice, dated from tS© 
watery element, it may be read by some whose curiosit^r 
might incline them to look into what they would never 
seek after for the sake of the subject." His resolutions ar^ 
expressed thus*., 



MR. JAMES MEIItLE. St 

'^ Through thine all-assisting grace, I desire before 
thee, O God, to humble my soul on account of my sins, 
and to seek thy blessing and thy countenance in the way 
that I go, that it may be well with my soul. And through 
thy grace, distrusting myself, and looking to thee alone 
for strength to pei'form them, I desire to lay down my 
solemn promises before thine omnisciency, that in time 
coming this paper may be a remembrancer to me* 

1. '* I resolve to make this only an opportunity to help 
me forward in my great design, and not the employment 
of my life. 

2. " I promise and resolve, through grace, not to ne- 
glect secret prayer and reading of the scriptures, in the 
same manner as I have done at home. 

3. '' I promise through the strength of grace, not to be 
ashamed of religion, but to espouse it in all its despised 
purity, and to strive against the stream of general irre- 
ligion and depravity. 

4. *' I promise and resolve, through grace to abstain 
fi'om all appearance of evil, and to shun every occasion ot" 
sin, as none knows how great a matter a small spark may 
kindle. 

5. ** I promise and resolve not to wink at sin in others, 
but rather expose its ugly appearance, that my conversa- 
tion may shine spotless before the sons of vice. 

6. " I shall remark the good hand of my God upon me 
in all his kind providences, with silence and resignation 
under all his disposals. 

T. "I shall employ my time, my pen, and the talents 
thou hast given me, in matters of importance for God's 
glory and the good of souls ; and therefore beg thy kind 
assistance for this end. 

8. '* I shall, through grace, study to keep an equal 
frame of mind in every state, in adversity to be thankful, 
in prosperity humble, and in all conditions to live to thy 
praise ; and still to remember, that no change of circum- 
stances will release me from my obligation to the above 
particulars : as a sign of which, through grace, and be- 
fore thee, I subjoin my name, 

JAMES MEIKLE.'^ 

Towards the close of December, he left Camwatti for 
I'Oith, from which he was to sail in one of the King^T 



38 THE LIFE OF 

ships appointed as convoy to the trade ; but his trank, 
through the negligence of the person who had charge of 
it, did not arrive in time, and he was again disappointed » 
Another convoy w^asnot expected to sail for two months ; 
he was afraid lest a residence so long in Edinburgh or 
Lieith might exhaust his little stock of money ; and it be- 
came necessary for him to return to Carnwath. This* 
was to him a source of new distress. His acquaintances 
in jest welcomed him on his return from foreign places; 
and some of them insinuated, that neither formerly, nor 
at this time, had he any serious intention of going to sea, 
but that he only gave it out as a stratagem to obtain pay« 
ment of his accounts. Suspected by some, ridiculed by 
others, almost without employment, and doubting in his 
own mind what these continued disappointments could 
mean ; he studied submission to the will of God,* and 
spent two melancholy months a\ aiting for an opportunity 
to depart. At length, on the 10th of March, 1T58, he 
left CaruAvath once more, and the next week embarked 
on board the Arcturus tender for London. After passing 
at Surgeon's Hall, he received an appointment from the 
Nav^'^-Office, of second surgeon's mate to the Portland, 
a fifty gun ship, and set out immediately for Portsmouth 
on foot. Although he could have reached that place on 
the evening of Saturday, the 29th of April, he preferred 
halting at a village within ten miles of it till the morning . 
of the following Monday, " not daring," he says, *' to 
join such company on such a day," and judging it more 
proper to devote the last Sabbath which perhaps for some 
time he should spend on shore to those religious exercises 
which his circumstances particularly required. That he 
might not be exposed to interruption, he retired into the 
fields, took his bible, paper, pen, and ink, along with him,, 
and spent the day " pleasantly," he says, " praying that 
he might above all things be preserved in his new situa- 
tion from sin and vice, and committing his friend at home 
to the guidance of Providence." In these fields he wrote 
the ninth meditation in this volume, the perusal of which 
will give the reader some idea of the manner in which h^ 
w^as employed. 

* See Solitude Sweetened, Med. vi. ix. ssslx% 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. m 

Mr. Meikle had scarcely entered the ship, when he was 
confounded at the discovery of a degree of wickedness, 
of which it does not appear that he had ever before form- 
ed any conception. . " It exceeded," he says, " all belief, 
and I soon concluded that here 1 could not stay." His 
journals are every where filled with complaints of the 
abandoned conduct both of the officers and crew. Their 
vile habit of profane swearing, their contempt of the 
Sabbath, their drunkenness, and gross and undisguised de- 
bauchery, were a continual source of distress to him du- 
ring the four years that he continued on board. '' I be- 
lieve," says he, in a letter to the Rev. Mr. Horn, *' the 
demoniacs in the gospel were never more under the de- 
vil's power than many of these men are, whether we 
look to their lives or their language." His righteous soul 
w^as so vexed from day to day with their filthy conversa- 
tion and unlawful deeds, that it preyed on his spirits, and 
thr^Htened to affect his health. " This day," says he, 
July T, 1T58, *' when I took a serious survey of the wick- 
edness practised around me, when I saw all fear of God 
cast off, heard them on the morning of the Lord's day- 
swearing, and singing obscene songs, and observed the 
fhip's boats bringing lewd women aboard, no respect be- 
ing paid to the holy Sabbath which God has set for a sign 
between the Christian world and himself, yea the very 
shame of sin being gone, I was filled with vexation, grief, 
and, might I say, holy indignation, till my breast ached, 
and I was pained at my very heart." 

It was not merely compassion for the poor "wretches 
themselves that occasioned Mr. Meikle such distress. 
He trembled for himself. Some of his wicked companions 
had been educated religiously ; when he reproved them, 
they replied to his reproofs, that ere long he would not 
be so squeamish, and quoted examples to convince him 
that he would soon be reconciled to their manners, and 
adopt them as his own. *^ These," says he, '* were terri- 
fying thoughts to me. They led me to reflect seriously 
on ray own vileness and my own weakness, and to fly to 
the divine promise, with resolution to keep out of the way 
of sin, lest, as they predicted, I should be ensnared, and 
become as one of them." It did not satisfy his conscience 
that ^e abstained from their vices ; he dreaded the effect 
^f witnessing their wickedness in lessening his detestation 



40 THE LIFE OE ' 

of sin. and strengthening the depraved inclinations ot 
his heart. " One thing," says he, in a letter to a friend, 
" which I fear, is, lest the frequent sight of sin diminish I 
that abhorrence of it which I should always entertain. ! 
Sin, the oftener it is committed, is the more aggravated, 
and so the sight of it should become the more grievous to 
me ; and can I say that I have sustained no injury, if I 
begin, through familiarity with it, to hate it less than 
before ? Sometimes I reflect how under the law the touch 
of a dead body, or any unclean thing, though accidental- 
ly or unwittingly, made the person ceremonially unclean ; 
and hence infer, that the very hearing, seeing, and know- 
ing of sin, considering the corruption that remains within 
us, renders us unclean, especially, if by grace in vigorous 
exercise, a real detestation of the sin be not kindled in 
the soul, and a proper sorrow wrought there for the dis- 
honour done to the Most High. Now, dear sir, you see 
my critical situation ; pray for me." 

Amidst the dangerswith which he was surrounded, Mr. 
Meikle put his trust in God. It comforted him, he says, 
that the Lord, who delivered just Lot, knoweth how to j 
deliver the godly out of temptations ; and that if he I 
shouldnot answer his prayers by delivering him from this 
situation of danger, he would do it, by making his grace 
sufficient for him, and his strength perfect in weakness. 
It was to him according to his faith. " Though the wick- 
ed," he says, " gave me grief without, yet God comforted 
me, and was the joy of my soul." And again he expresses 
himself thus : *' Woe is rae, because I am a rnan of unclean 
lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips ! 
O the unclean things that the unclean lips convey to us, ; 
if not to our heart to defile us, yet to our ear to disquiet 
us 1 Yet I have God to bless that I was, as it were, s^ved 
by fire, purified even by means of sin — a mysteiy I never 
knew before ; for the more of their sin I saw, the more I 
hated it, and was made to deplore the fountain of all, ori- 
ginal guilt." 

Had it not been for the wickedness of those on board 
the Portland, Mr. Meikle would have felt no desire for 
some time to change his situation in life. He kept his 
health ; he was satisfied with his pay ; he had a birth to 
himself and the first mate, who was a quiet, inoffensive, 
but irreligious lad, and gave him little disturbance ; aptl 



MR. JAMES MEIKXE. 41 

the ofticers of the ship treated him with politeness. His 
character appears, during the whole period of his contin- 
uance at sea, to have commanded the respect of his ungod- 
ly companions. They sometimes ridiculed him indeed 
for his strictness ; yet he remarks, '^ Though they were 
^vicked, I had their favour, which my fellow mate had 
not." They desisted, on more occasions than one, from 
sports on the Sabbath which were disagreeable to him ; 
and took it in good part when he reproved some of them 
very sharply for their vices. In consequence of his hon- 
est endeavours for their benefit, some of them even confes- 
sed and lamented their folly, and put themselves under re- 
straint for a while. Their fickle resolutions, it is true, 
were commonly soon broken, "yet," says he, "I never 
gave over now and then to reprove, though I sometimes 
had little thanks for it, not knowing when God might 
give the blessing;" and though he could not boast of be- 
ing the means of the conversion of any of them, he had 
the comfort of doing his duty, correcting some abuses, and 
preserving the esteem even of those who would not be 
reformed. After he had been three years on board, he 
could write to his sister thus : " Abstracting from their 
wickedness, and surely, when we see transgressors we 
should be grieved, my situation is singularly happy ; for 
there is not an officer aboard but is ready to oblige me, and 
to do any thing to serve me." 

The happiness which Mr. Meikle experienced when at 
sea, did not result only or chiefly from the favour of man. 
He had pleasures of a superior kind ; the transcendant 
happiness of fellowship with G od, joy and peace in belie- 
ving, and assured hopes of eternal life. " Whatever God 
shall do with me here," he says in his journal, July, '18, 
1T58, " yet I know that 1 shall praise him among assem- 
bled elders, and serve him before the throne among thovse 
who are made priests and kings to him forever and ever." 
And about a year after he writes to his sister in the follow- 
ing words : " I may say from experience, that religion 
sweetens all places and all conditions ; and that the man 
who sets his love on God, need not live alone, thotigh far 
from all his friends and acquaintances. God rules always 
best for his people, and a cheerful submission to the divine 
disposal is our duty ; and when frank, and full, and from 
the heart, how pleasant is it !" Indeed, almost every one 
»2 



k^Z THE LIFE OF 

of the meditations in "Solitude Sweetened,*' and "liie 
Traveller," which were written at sea, might he quoted 
in proof of the very flourishing state of religion in his 
soul. 

The religion of Mr. Meikle was not the religion of an 
indolent man. He kept himself, he tells us, pretty close 
in his birth, except when his duty called him on deck : for 
the horrid oaths which were continually bandied about on 
it, often drove him down sooner than he intended ; but he 
filled up every moment of his time in some useful or at 
least innocent employment. As a specimen of his almost 
Incredible diligence, take the following summary of his 
occupations from the first of May to the end of Decem- 
ber, 1758. Let it be remembered at the same time, that ^ 
during this period the Portland was sent on three differ- 
ent secret expeditions to the coast of France, to St. Ha- 
loes, to Cherburg and to St. Cas'bay ; that much time . • 
must have been occupied in the embarkation and disem- 
barkation of troops, much confusion occasioned by the 
multitude on board, and much additional duty necessarily 
laid on the surgeons by tlie number of wounded men un- 
der their charge. Yet during this busy period, Mr. Mei- 
kle found leisure to compose a paraphrase ©n the Song of 
Solomon in verse, and " the Christian Compass," a para- 
phrase on the 119 Psalm, each of which would fill a con- 
siderable volume; besides a great variety of occasional 
poems. A small tract against the lewdness and debauch- 
ery so common in the Navy, and a considerable treatise, 
which may perhaps afterwards be published, entitled *' A. 
Word in Time of Need, or a few Thoughts in Honour of 
Religion," were written by him within the same space of 
time. To these must be added, his journal, and his diary 
for these eight months, and all the meditations in " the 
Traveller," and '* Solitude Sweetened," corresponding to 
this date. 

Yet though he wrote so much, he did not neglect read- 
ing, and other religious duties. " I began," he says, June, 
175o," to prize time more than ever I had done before, and 
gtudied to get up by four in the morning ; but sometimes 
slept longer."* " Now the scriptures were sweeter to 
me than ever (July T, 1T58 ;)and the method I pursued 
was, in the morning first to pray, lest any thing should dis- 

* See Solitude Sweetened, Med. x!vi. 



ME. JAMES MEIKLE. -43 

turb me afterwards ; then to read one chapter in the Old, 
and another in the New Testament, and then a psahn in 
the metre version. At twelve o'clock I prayed again, and 
again at foui\ At night I read a chapter in both testa- 
ments, and another psalm, and then prayed, which I post- 
poned till the lights were put out, as then I was least dis- 
turbed. This I mention, not as matter of boasting, for my 
prayers may humble, rather than elate me, but to signify 
how sweet I then found living near God to be, and to be 
in the exercise of commanded diity." 

While Mr. Meikle was occupying himself in this truly 
Christian manner, the Portland received orders to proceed 
to Gibralter, as convoy to the trade, and thence down 
the Mediterranean as far as Leghorn. After encounter- 
ing some hard gales, whicli drove them back tJn-ee several 
times, they left England on the 20th Jan. 1T59, reached 
Gibralter on the 21st of Febmary, halted about ten days 
at that place, and arrived at Leghorn on the 2jth of 
March, having narrovviy escaped a French fleet which had 
sailed from Toulon with a view to intercept thera. 

During the voyage, Mr. Meikle repeatedly remarks 
the divine kindness to his soul, and the many sweet hours 
"ivhich he enjoyed in delightful intercourse with the God 
of his salvation. The Sabbath in particular was to him a 
day of spiritual joy. It was his custom distinctly to note 
it, both in his journal of ordinary occurrences, and in his 
diary, in which he recorded liis observations on the events 
of providence and the state of his soul, for two reasons ; 
first, lest in a situation in which there was no distinc- 
tion made between it and other days of the week, he 
should forget the return of the day of sacred rest; and, 
secondly, because, says he, '' I chose to mark how it fared 
with me on that day in particular, and always made my 
request to God the evening before, that it might be a good 
day to my soul.'^ And though he often laments his exclu- 
sion from the public ordinances of religion, and the great 
difficulty which he found in devoting the Sabbath as he 
ought to the service of God in private ; yet, amidst these 
disadvantages, there is reason to believe that he enjoy- 
ed as much of the presence of God, and tasted as much 
of the joys of paradise upon it, as ever he did at any ot^- 
er period of his life. 



44 THE LIFE OE 

At Leghorn, he had occasion to remark the interposi- 
tion of Providence in a very singular manner in his be- 
half. Several of the gentlemen belonging to the ship had 
formed a party in order to visit the city of Pisa, which 
is not more than twelve miles distant, and entertain them- 
selves with the sight of its famous hanging tower, and 
the other curiosities of the place. Mr. Meikle, starting 
in the morning of the 12th of April, went on foot by 
himself, and enjoyed, he says, by the way, *' pleasant me- 
ditations on the love of Christ ;" the rest followed on 
horseback. The afternoon was far advanced before they 
had sufficiently gratified their curiosity. . In the evening 
Mr. Meikle's companions returned ; but he, being fatigued, 
and observing that the wind was foul, so that the fleet 
%vhich the Portland was to convoy could not sail, ventu- 
red to remain in Pisa. Early next morning, he set out 
for Leghorn ; but the wind had changed during the night, ' 
and before he could reach the city, the fleet had weighed, 
and were already several leagues on their way. 

By this occurrence he was thrown into inconceivable 
perplexity. In a strange place, ignorant of the language, 
with no clothes except what were on his body, with little 
money in his pocket, without one personal acquaintance, 
and even few Englishmen being left in the place to take 
interest in the distresses of their countiymen ; afraid, be- 
sides, of the fate of his papers and other property on 
board, of the loss of what w^as due to him on the ship's 
books, and of being detained long before he could find an 
opportunity of getting home ; what w^as to be done ? In 
bis distress he applied to the English Consul ; but every 
expedient suggested by him and some others whom he 
consulted, misgave. 

After thus spending the remainder of Friday, and the 
whole of Saturday, in fruitless contrivances how to extri- 
cate himself from the embarrassments of his situation, 
the Sabbath came, on which he resolved as much as possi- 
ble to banish care, and to commit himself to God. It w^as 
his custom, w'hen an enemy appeared, or when at any 
time he went ashore, to put his Bible in his pocket, that 
in any event he might not be deprived of the consolation 
which the perusal of it is calculated to afford : and on this 
occatiion he remarks that " he was so happy as to have 
along with him bis dear companion, the Bible." Earlv 



MR. JAMES MEIKI.E. 45 

on tlie morning, therefore, of the 15th of April, he reti- 
red to a forest which lay a considerable way out of town 
on the road to Pisa, and spent the day in devotional exer- 
cises. He sung the ixty-third Psalm, " a psalm written 
in a wilderness, which,'' says he, " gave me great comfort 
in my wilderness." He read the hundred and second 
Psalm, which *' well suits the afflicted when he is over- 
whelmed, and poureth out his complaint before the Lord." 
He engaged repeatedly in prayer, and in meditation on 
God and the dispensations of his providence towards his 
people, and himself in particular. As the day advanced, 
the wind sprung up, and it began to rain. He took shel- 
ter from the storm in the trunk of a hollow tree, and stand- 
ing within it, wrote the following lines, Avhich are insert- 
ed, not for any excellence in the poetry, but because of 
the circumstances in which they were composed, and to 
shew the temper of his mind on this trying occasion. 

♦' THE CONFIDENCE OF THE SOLITARY EXILE ; 

Written in a Forest between Leghorn and Pisa, April IS, 1759. 

"A stranger in a foreign land, 

I throw myself on thee : 
There's help in that Almighty hand 

That made both land and sea. 

" Though far from friends, and far from home, 

I am not far from God ; 
He will not stand aloof ; he'll come, 

And surely do me good. 

" Upon thy pow'r. Lord, I will lean ; 

Why should I bound thy ways ? 
Thy pow'r the hardest things can bring 

To pass with greatest ease. 

" Oft have I seen thy former love, 

Still will I trust in thee ; 
Thou cans't not cease from heav'n above 

Kindly to look on me. 

*' How to relieve thou always know'^t, 
Thou art as wise as true ; ' 



46 THE LIFE OE 

And what infinite wisdom plans. 
Infinite pow'r can do. 

^' Why doubt ray Father's love? for thougb 

His providence now frown, 
To me with kindness overflow 

His word and ways each one. 



" The world is thine ; and every where 
Thour't present, O most High! 

I cast myself upon thy care ; 
I on thy word rely." 



After the rain ceased, he drew nearer the city, and re» 
dining on a bank, wrote a few verses; but the wind still 
blowing high, the evening growing chill, and he himself 
becoming faint, for he had tasted nothing all that day but 
a draught of cold water, and eaten little the day before, 
he returned tc the city. Calling at a house to which he 
was kindly invited, he had not sat long before informa- 
tion was brought him that the English fleet had been 
driven back by contrary winds, and were arrived in the 
roads. Animated by this delightful, but unexpected in- 
telligence of an event which so evidently marked the care 
of Providence, he made all possible haste towards the 
shore ; but it was late, it blew hard, and it was morning 
before he could get aboard. As he rowed towards the 
ship, it fell calmer, the wind became fair, the signal for 
sailing was hoisted ; and within two hours after he en- 
tered the Portland, the fleet were under way \vith a fair 
wind and a fresh gale. 

How ignorant are we of the gracious intention of 
events, of which at the moment we are disposed to com- 
plain I The wind which chilled him, and the rain which 
drove him for shelter into the trunk of a tree, were the s 
instruments of his deliverance. " This interposition of I 
Providence for me," he says, *'was astonishing; that ? 
God should send a contrary gust of wind out of his trea- 
suries, and turn a whole fleet out of their intended course 
for one poor worm! and, whenever that end was accom- 
plished, ordered a fair wind to blow, so that we were 
obliged to put back no more." It appears to have struck 
even the thoughtless sailors with surprize; for they haul- 



MR. JA3IES MEIKLE. 4T 

ed liiiu a.-* he approached the vessel, in their rougli and ir- 
religious manner, " Come along you praying d — 1 ;" ad- 
ding, that the winds would not permit them to leave Leg-> 
horn without him. 

His first care was to acknowledge God. "I had plea- 
sant reflections," he says, ^^ on the sudden and sweet 
change which Providence had made in my circumstances. 
The other day I was in a forest in Italy, solitary, left be- 
hind, and friendless ; but now in my own ship, and alrea- 
dy many leagues advanced in our intended voyage." 
Amidst the glow of gratitude which he felt for his deli- 
verance, he wrote, April 18, the following lines : 

" Awake, each grateful thought, and sing 

The Lord^s o'er-ruling hand ; 
For thee concern'd, th' Eternal King 

See, and astonish'd stand I 

'- Heav'n's host might well engross his care, 

Angelic ev'ry form ; 
Yet strange I see him on earth prepare 

His way to bless a worm ! 

''• At his command, the billows swell, 

The winds impetuous blow. 
And veer about, and quick fulfil 

His kind designs below. 

• I cannot praise thee as I should-— 

AVith gratitude inspire ; 
I cannot praise thee as I would— 
Accept the faint desire. 

^* Thy kindness I will ne- er forget ; 

But there astonish'd gaze, . 
And all my life on earth will set 

Apart to shew thy praise." 

After a prosperous voyage, the fleet arrived at Gibral- 
tar, about the middle of May ; but the Portland, instead 
of proceeding homeward, was ordered in a few weeks to 
join Admiral Boscawen, ofi^" Toulon, and continued cruiz- 
ing in the Mediterranean till the month of August. This 



48 THE LIFE OF 

was a serious disappointment to Mr. Meikle. He was 
impatient to get home, in order to pursue his intended 
studies. He was beyond expression disgusted at the 
wickedness practised around hira, which his utmost exer- 
tions were unable to restrain, and which, in spite of him-^ J 
self, he was obliged to witness ; and no consideration of' j 
emolument could make him pleased wdth the prospect of ' 
being doomed, for another season, to associate with 
wretches, the greater part of whom neither feared God, 
nor regarded man. The crew rejoiced in some prizes 
they had made, and in the prospect of more during their 
cruize ; but to Mr. Meikle, these were objects of little 
moment. He considered the di\'ine providence, of the 
goodness of which he had so large experience, " as a ne- 
ver-failing treasure, a bank out of w^hich the necessities 
of all the people of God are supplied." He submitted to 
that as an affliction which gave them joy, and felt inex- 
pressibly happy in being enabled to believe, that what to 
sense and reason appeared so adverse, " was certainly 
well done towards him, being," he says, " the disposal of, 
my best and dearest friend." "This happy frame of 
spirit," he adds, " and quietness of mind, which is only' 
his gift, this resignation to his holy will, and confident 
dependence on his providence and fatherly care, I ac- 
counted a greater prize than though I had shared ten 
thousand pounds." 

Before they sailed, 3Ir. Meikle, on the Tth of June, 
got ashore, climbed privately the south side of the rock, 
and spent the greater part of the day in ptayer and fast- 
ing, " pouring out to God," he says, " my confession and 
complaint." In that sultry spot, he had " no shelter but 
the rocks, no covering but the heavens : but God was 
very gracious to him; *' the naked rock was to me," he . 
says, " like Bethel, God's house, where God was pleased 
to meet with me." 

During their cruize, we find him sometimes rejoicing, 
sometimes complaining. " Vain thoughts rising within 
me," he says, on one occasion, " made it a melancholy 
day ; yet I thereby learned to depend more on all-suffi- 
cient grace and the divine promise, than on the manifes- 
tation ; and I was led to see my own nothingness if God 
should withdraw but for a moment. The ensuing Sabbath, 
(iod, vvho is rich in mercy, returned to my soul with hi^ 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. 49 

loving-kindness, and made me triumph in him ; yet was 
I vexed with melancholy thoughts, springing from cursed 
unbelief, how it might fare with my friends at home." 
" The God of never failing mercy," says he, on another 
occasion, "was gracious to my soul this da)^, yet I 
thought, and verily believed, that none who ever tasted 
that God is gracious, had such a multitude of vain 
thoughts as I was troubled with." Again, " not only 
sinners without, but sin within, vexed me this day, yet 
God was good and gracious to me." And again, " this 
day 1 was satisfied with streams of the same overflowing 
river that had refreshed me often before ; but wickedness 
swelled about me to an incredible degree, so that I was 
weary of my life." 

The fleet under Boscawen had not long returned to 
Gibraltar, before information was received that M. de la 
Clue, Avith the French fleet, were passing the Gut. They 
immediately pursued, overtook the French next day, and 
gained, on the IBth of. August, a signal victory, taking 
three ships of the line, and destroying two. The parti- 
culars of this engagement belong to the history of the 
country, ratlier than of Mr. Meikle. It is enough here 
to observ^e, that the Portland was five hours engaged, and 
lost a considerable number of men; that she narrowly 
escaped being blown up by a six-pound cartridge of gun- 
powder, which blew up at the very door of the fore pow- 
der magazine ; that Mr. Meikle sat composedly during 
the chase, writing Meditation C. of this volume, till the 
drum called all hands to quarters ; and that during the 
heat of the engagement, when, in consequence of the 
blowing up of the cartridge, he expected to go down to 
the deep in a moment ; with a serenity of mind, the 
thought of which long after refreshed him, he committed 
his soul to God.* He also remarks with gratitude to his 
preserver, that, while in one of the ships, a surgeon, and 
a surgeon's mate, lost a leg each, he escaped ; and ob- 
serves that he felt indescribable horror on reflection at 
the scene, stunned with the noise of great guns, pierced 
with the groans of the wouhded, whose pains he was mi- 
able to relieve, besmeared with human blood, and sur- 
rounded with the dying and the dead. 

» See Secret Survey, Sept, li. lero, 



50 THE LIFl OF 

-i 

It added considerably to Mr. Meikle's duty during the 
engagement and afterwards, that the first mate had been 
put aihore at Gibraltar, ill of the scurvy, and never re- 
turned to the ship. In other respects, he accounted this 
a happiness. Though a quiet lad, yet being a stranger to 
religion, his conversation had often distressed him, and 
his company deprived him of that liberty which he desi- 
red for religious exercises. Now, however, he had the 
birth for himself; and as he w^as soon after promoted to 
the rank of first mate, and the place of second mate con- 
tinued vacant during the remainder of his time at sea, he 
enjoyed advantages to which he had formerly been a 
stranger. One of the first uses which he made of this 
change in his situation, was to take two of the ship's 
boys into his birth, and to endeavour to train them to 
the knowledge and practice of religion ; and though those 
whom he first took under his charge run off from the ship 
as soon as they reached England, he appears to have per- 
severed in the practice as long as he continued on board. 
The Portland, and some other ships, being ordered 
home with the prisoners, and to be repaired, Mr. Meikle 
reached Spithead on the i6thaf September. His first bu- 
siness was to write the Admiralty, that he might be su- 
perseded. "I could willingly," he says, " have continued 
to serve my country in my mean station, in defence of 
our religion and liberties, had what I daily saw and heard 
been tolerable for me ;• but their wickedness made me 
weary of my life." " The poor wretches who had been 
preserved from death in the late engagement, instead of 
rendering to the Lord according to his goodness, gave 
themselves up to ail manner of sin. In their sin, I saw 
the corruption of fallen nature ; for though many unre- 
newed men break not out into the same excess of riot, 
yet till the saving change commence, the heart is in all 
the same ; and I trembled lest their (Sample should lead 
me to look on sin with less abhorrence than before." 

The necessities of the service, however, obliged the 
Admiralty to refuse his petition ; but he was promoted to 
the rank of first mate. They put to sea, therefore, on 
the £2d of October, for the coast of France ; and on this 
voyage, as formerly, he tasted much of the pleasure of 
true religion. " November the 4th, being Sabbath," he 
observes, ** was a day of refreshing to my soul ; I was 



I 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. 51 

helped, not out of a stoical stupidity, but being convin- 
ced of the equity and noble ends, though to me unknown 
of God's doings, from the heart to welcome all that had 
befallen me, and keep silence because HE had done it." 
And, Jan. 2T, 1T60, he exclaims, " O what sweetness m>^ 
8oul enjoyed this day in his presence, even a^foretaste of 
that happiness which refreshes the hosts above. I was 
made rather to magnify God in all his ways, than murmur 
at any of his doings." 

While on the coast of France, they had tw^o very pro- 
dential escapes. The Portland, and the other five ships 
of inferior force, were employed in watching a fleet of 
transports, intended for the invasion of England, when 
the signal was raadefor^an enemy. They slipt their ca- 
bles and pursued, supposing the fleet they descried at a 
distance to be merchantmen or transports. Already they 
were within a few leagues of the enemy, when, to their 
confusion, they found that they were running into the 
jaws of the Brest fleet, commanded by Marshal Conflans. 
They attempted to fly, but with scarce a hope of escaping. 
The Portland, which sailed veiy indifferently since she ^ 
was last repaired, was within reach of the enemy's shot, 
and expecting every moment the order to strike, when a 
man on the mast-head, announced a fleet bearing down 
before the wind. Signals appeared at the same instant 
flying in the French fleet, and in a little they altered their 
course. It was the British fleet under Hawke which now 
hove in sight. Every heart on board the Portland was 
joy ; she turned to join in the pursuit of her pursuers ; 
and by the evening of that day, Nov. 20, 1759, one of the 
greatest naval victories w^as gakied which adorn the an- 
nals of Britain. 

The remains of the French fleet took shelter in the ri- 
ver Vilaine, and the Portland was stationed on the coast 
along with some other ships^ to prevent their escape. 
While on this duty, they were assaulted by a dreadful 
tempest on the 1st of Jan. 1T60 ; and the ship drove. One 
anchor was broken off by the fluke, another through the 
middle of the stalk ; but when they were almost on shore, 
and all on board expected to perish, the sheet-anchor Avas 
let go, which brought the vessel up, so that she rode out 
the storm. \ 



52 THE LIFE OE 

While Mr. Meikle remarked these, and many other 
less striking circumstances in the course of divine provi- 
dence, his soul mourned in secret over the insensibility of 
his companions, whom neither judgments could terrify, 
nor mercies allure. A paper has been found in his own 
hand-writing, which, in the most feeling manner, expresses 
the anguish of his heart on their account, and will super- 
cede the necessity of a moi*e particular detail. It has no 
regular connection of sentences, but seems to have been 
written occasionally during the ship's continuance on the 
coast of France, when his mind was at any time more than 
usually impressed with the view of their wickedness ; and 
afterwards written out on Sept. T, 1T60, immediately af- 
ter their return to Plymouth from that station, when, in 
the fields »ear that place, he devoted a day to prayer and 
fasting on their account and his own. It runs thus : 

" Woe is me that I sojourn in Mesech, and dwell iii 
the tents of Kedar. 

" My soul is among fierce lions, though they are sons 
of men ; for their words are spears and darts, and their, 
tongues are a sharp sword. 

" O how those who should live like expectants of glory, 
resemble the damned in hell I 

" Where is the honour of thy name, which by ever 
tongue is continually blasphemed? 

" How often would the loss of an organ have a little 
relieved the anguish of my mind, and the sleep of death 
shut out the mournful scene ! 

" Who can enough extol the patience of God I But 
w^ho can be enough astonished at the impenitence of man, 
who still goes on in sin ! 

" Whence shall I fetch floods of tears to weep over my 
demeuted acquaintances, who are hastening to hell, yet 
believe it not ? 

*' Surely my dwelling is in the suburbs of hell, where I 
hear the blasphemies of the damned ! 

" The lips that should daily praise thee, are daily spea- 
king perverse things ; the tongues that should talk aloud 
of thy righteousness, are set on fire of hell. 

*' Where, in the day of judgment, where shall these 
poor souls appear ? and v^^hither will they cause their 
shame to go ? 



1 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. ° 53 

'' Ye saints ! ye little know what a life your children 
lead when far from you, however well they may have 
been brought up. 

" Surely liimiers come nearer to the devils in their 
wickedness, than saints to the angels in their sanctity ; 
yet a glorious change awaits the one, but a fearful end 
the other. 

" When shall my silent Sabbaths pass away, so that I 
may praise the God of Zion in the ZiOn of God ? 

" How melancholy to dwell with those whom death at 
last shall part, to meet no more in one society again ! 

*' Now it is proper that I pray for them, mourn over, 
and deplore them ; for in a little their state will eternally 
forbid it, and my state eternally forbear it. 

" How might one see, and not be greatly afflicted, na- 
tions conquered, kings dethroned, prisoners pass in thou- 
sands, and multitudes go to be broken on the wheel ! But 
who can see numbers of fellow-creatures daring the thun- 
ders of the Almighty, provoking his vengeance, and plun- 
ging into everlasting flames, and not be pained to the very 
heart ! 

" Surely the society of the wicked is the academy of 
bell, where vice is taught, if not by precept, yet by prac- 
tice, and some times by both. 

*' Every morning my sorrow returns upon me, and my 
anguish recoils with every fresh reflection. 

" HoAv dangerous is the company of the wicked ! for 
. though they should not prevail on us to commit sin, yet 
tlieir often committing it in our sight is ready to blunt the 
odgeof our detestation, and allay the vigour of our ab- 
horrence of it. 

" Were men as stupid" about the things of this life as 
they are about the world to come, they would be a burden 
to society, and useless in their generation. How deplor- 
able is it, then, that they should be only prudent in mat- 
ters, not of the last, but of the least importance, and 
that even those who otherwise are indolent, should perpe- 
trate sin with the greatest activity ! 

When neither judgments nor mercies, promises nor 
threatenings, patience nor examples of vengeance can 
prevail, nothing can let them see their folly till awaken^, 
ed by the flames of hell, when it will be too late. 



54 THE LIFE OF 

" Revolutions here* have adxantaged me nothing, for 
it was still from bad to worse." 

Immediately after their arrival from the coast of France, 
Mr. Meikle began to write what he styles " A Secret 
Survey into the State of the Soul," the pi4ncipal articles 
of which have been published in the first volume of his 
works. To this, therefore, the reader is henceforth re- 
ferred for information respecting his religious views and 
feelings. It is proper, however, to observe, that he did 
not satisfy himself with watcliing over the state of his 
own soul, and bewailing the wickedness of his compan- 
ions. He still, as prudence dictated, continued to reprove 
and warn them. He still privately continued to instruct 
and counsel the boys whom he had taken under his charge. 
Besides, he spent many hours, during the greater part of 
the year, 1T60, in conversation and prayer with a young 
gentleman belonging to the ship, who had fallen under 
strong convictions, and suffered very singular horror of 
conscience ; a minute narrative of whose case has been 
found among his papei*s ; but the issue of which, whether 
in a gracious change or not, Mr. Meikle could never 
learn, as the ship was ordered to sea soon after the gentle- 
man left it, and he could never afterwards obtain any in- 
formation concerning him.t 

While lying at Pfymouth, Mr. Meikle bethought him- 
self of a new expedient for the benefit of his companions. 
Seizing a favourable moment, when some of the midship- 
men had conducted themselves so ill as to be turned off, 
he prevailed on a few of those who remained, to enter 
into a solemn engagement respecting their future behav- 
iour ; and that he might not scare them, limited the obli- 
gation to the period of one month, expecting doubtless, 
if his attempt should succeed, to obtain their concurrence 
to a renewal of the engagement, or to the adoption of 
some similar rules. The original is in Mr. Meikle's hand- 
writing, f.nd is subscribed by other three persons. As it 
will be deemed by those who are acquainted with the pre- 
vailing manners of the navy, a curiosity, and happily il- 

* Since he joined the ship, besides changes among; the inferior offi- 
cers, they had three captains. The chaplain was so very wicked, that 
he had been expelled the ship ! 

t This Narrative may perhaps appear in the remaining volume of 
Mr. Meikle's Works. 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. 55 

luslrates, not only his zeal, but his priulence, in adapting 
the regulations to the circumstances of those for whose 
benefit they were devised, an exact copy is subjoined : 

On board the Pcrtland, Jan. 3, 1T61. 
fVe the wideryjriiten, subscribe to observe the 
following Rules* 
T. '* That none of us shall swear, or even mention the 
divine name, but when in reading it occurs. 

II. " That we shall say grace before and after meat by 
turns, or every one for himself.* 

in. " That every morning and night we shall read a 
portion of scripture. 

IV. " That none of us shall sing obscene songs, or talk 
about lewd women. 

V. "- That our table-discourse shall be improving, inno- 
cent and merry. 

Yl. " That we shall keep the Sabbafh strictly, not in 
telling idle tales, or vain discowrse ; but shall readrthe Bi- 
ble and good books by turns, while the rest hear. 

VII. '* Good books to be put into the foremost birth 
every J*aturday night, and nobody to come into the after- 
most birth on Sunday, but the former inhabitants. 

VIII. '' That, on account of patients, every night at 
six o'clock, the aftermost birth be evacuated. 

IX. " No lewd vvomen shall be admitted into either 
birth. 

X. " That we will not play at cards or any game for 
money, but at cards at no rate. 

XL " That no dispute be carried on too far ; but when 
passion begins to appear, it shall be dropped. 

XII. " That no new midshipman be admitted into the 
mess. 

Xin. " That none of us reveal our rules to any on 
board. 

XIV. *' That this continue a month in force. 

XV. " That the breach of any of the above rules by 
any of us, dissolves all. 

'' To the above we set our hands. 

(Subscribed) '^ .TA3IES ATKIK, 

'^ HUGH FERGUS, 
*' JAMES NELSON, 
'^ JAMES MEIKLE.'' 



0^ THE LIFE or 

How long tliese regulations were kept, or what saluta- 
ry effects they had in the reformation of the subscribers, 
is not known. Mr. Meikle often complains in his diary 
of the short continuance of good impressions on the hearts 
of those with whom he remonstrated, of their breach of 
pious resolutions, of their goodness being like the early 
cloud, and of many of them returning like the dog to his- 
vomit. Grieved at their conduct, he became more and 
more anxious to be released from his bondage. With this 
vie\v, he v>a*ote to the Navy-Office in September, and 
again in November, 1760, but in both instances was re- - 
fused ; and afterwards, with no better success, attempted 
to exchange with a surgeon's mate whose ship was to be 
paid off. Two considerations besides those already men- 
tioned, increased liis desire to get home. He had recei- 
ved the greater part of his pay, and, " with great joy, 
sent home as much as would clear all debts," both those 
which he had left behind him, and those which, since his 
departure, had been contracted for the support of his aged 
mother, of whose decease he had lately before received in- 
formation ; so that the great impediment to his studies 
was removed out of the Avay. And cesides, he had ia 
some instances been un watchful — had suffered his passion 
to get the mastery over him, in one instance, when he 
thought himself ill-used — and in another, when in compa- 
ny with the officers of the ship, " had drank more wine 
than enough, which rendered him unfit for every duty in- 
cumbent on him." '' O how dangerous," he cries, " is 
it to dwell among the wicked '.-'- and, conscious of his in- 
iirmity, he longed to get out of the vvay of temptations 
before which he was apt to fall. 

In the month of March, 1T61, the Portland sailed for 
the Island of St. Helena, as convoy to the outward bound 
East-India fleet, halted for some time at Madeira, on her 
passage out, and reached St. Helena, in the beginning of 
June. She returned uith the homeward-bound fleet, and 
reached the Downs, by tlie end of September. 

During this voyage, Mr. Meikle persevered in his usual 
diligence. Besides his stated religious exercises formerly 
mentioned, he wrote many Poems and Meditations.* He 

*He wi'ote also, when at sea, some small tracts, against profane 
swearing, ami other vices, but at what particuiar period cannot be 
ascertainetl. 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. 5T 

applied himself also very diligently to the study of the 
Hebrew language, and completed the reading of the Pen- 
tateuch before he reached England. The state of his soul 
may in part be learned by consulting the " Secret Sur- 
vey." The following short extracts will serve further to 
show it. " April 5. I had reason to say that God's love 
is like the ocean, his goodness like the floods, and that he 
is graciously near to all that call on him." " May 3, 
was to ray soul a good day ; and though the iniquity of 
my heels overtook me, the God of my mercy prevented 
me, which made me sing of the freeness of grace." '' On 
the ITth, he kindly opened the stores of his goodness, and 
made my soul delight itself in fatness." " On the 24th, 
the wanderings of ray heart were very grievious. O 
when shall my complaint cease !" He went ashore at St, 
Helena, on the 8th of June, wandered to a considerable 
distance into the country, and devoted the day in solitude 
to self examination and prayer. *' But O what a black 
life raine was, when narrowly surveyed, when by medita- 
tion it was, as it were, taken to pieces. Tliough the 
world could say but little, conscience could say a great 
deal." " July 1:2, was Sabbath, and though busy for a 
considerable part of the day among the sick, yet God re- 
membered me in my wilderness, and watered my desart. 
I found that to be allowed to live near God is the sweet- 
est life in the world, and svv^eetens every eondition." 

The scurvy and dysentery raged on board the ship du- 
ring the voyage home, to such a degree, that they lost 
twenty-six men, and at one period had sixty-five sick. 
Although the fatigue of duty must have been great, Mr. 
Meikle remarks with gratitude to God, that except du- 
ring a few days when he felt what is styled the prickly 
heat, he retained his health. They narrowly escaped, 
near the island Fernandez de Noronha, being captured 
by a French fleet which w^ere watching for them, by alter- 
ing their course during the night ; and on the night of 
the 6th of September, they were mercifully preserved in 
a storm, though a thunderbolt struck their main top-mast, 
broke it in pieces, and stunned several of the people. 

The ship went into dock after their arrival, and again 
Mr. Meikle applied to the Navy-Board without success. 
On the 25th of November, they sailed for Lisbon, and re- 
turned to Spithead on the 1st of February, 1T62, bring- 



58 THE LIFE OE 

ing home the Earl of Bristol, the British ambassador at 
the court of Spain. The moment he arrived, he renew- 
ed his application to the Board, and, to his inexpressible 
joy, obtained his request ; " for which," says he, *' I bless 
the Hearer of prayer, and magnify his name." As soon 
as he eould arrange his affairs, he left the ship, hasted to 
London, and took ship for Berwick, whence he travelled 
on foot to Edinburgh, " which," says he, " when I saw, 
I thanked God, and took courage." 

At Carnwath, were he arrived on the 24th of March, 
he thought himself, he says, in a new world. No oaths 
assaulted his ears ; by many religion was professed, and 
prayer perfonned ; at Biggar, within eight miles of his- 
residence, he had regular access to hear the gospel ; and 
he found in his neighbourhood, godly men with whom 
he deemed it a happiness to have it in his power to asso- 
ciate. His Sabbaths, in particular, were very different 
from those of the four preceding years. " It w^as a sweet 
day," says he, speaking of one of his first Sabbaths at home; 
*' no disturbance, but from a wandering heart. I was 
afraid that I was not so thankful as I ought to be." On 
his road to church on a subsequent one, " I had pleasure," 
he says, " in meditation. The sermon was divine and 
edifying. O pleasant situation ! but O ungrateful 1 1" 

The object which he had had so long at heart now occu- 
pied his attention ; but a series of adverse occurrences 
tad put the attainment of it for so many years out of his 
reach, that now when he possessed the means of prosecu- 
ting his studies for the ministry, he began to hestitate con- 
cerning what Vv^as his duty. He took the advice of sev» 
eral of the most judicious of his friends, and in particular 
of the Rev. John Patison, the venerable predecessor of 
the writer of this Narrative ; and the result was, that 
considering how long Providence had obstructed his 
views ; that he had already spent thirty-three years of 
his life, and several more must necessarily elapse before, 
according to the rules of the religious society of which 
he was a member, he could obtain license to preach 
the gospel ; and moreover, that his organs of speech did 
not promise that he would ever be able to speak so as to 
meet Avith general acceptance, it was his duty to abandon 
bis intention, and to endeavour to serve God and his gene- 
ration by the diligent application of his talents to the du- 



3IE. JAMES MEIKLE. 5S 

tie!? of the station in which he was placed. He did so, 
and was respectable and useful during life as a surgeon. 
Though Providence thus refused the aid of his tongue to 
promote the interests of the gospel, yet his pen was nev- 
er unoccupied in private in this glorious work ; and it is 
hoped, that now since he is gone to a better world, his pi- 
ous example, which it is the business of these sheets to re- 
cord, and his pious writings, which the writer of this ac- 
counts it his honour to have been the means of introducing 
to public notice, will long continue to plead the cause of 
that God whom he sensed, and to refresh the souls of ma- 
ny who are precious in his sight. 

In the private station of a country surgeon, the unifor- 
mity of Mr. Meikle's life furnishes hence forward, few in- 
cidents which are of sufficient importance to merit a de- 
tail. The history of religion in his soul is, besides, recor- 
ded with sufficient minuteness in the *' Secret Survey," in 
the " Meditations," written after this period, and in the 
*' Monthly Memorial," which together form an uninter- 
rupted chain of information concerning* him from the pe- 
riod when he left the navy, to the 2d of December, 1799, 
within five days of his decease. A less circumstantial ac- 
count, therefore, of the latter period of his life is deemed 
sufficient. 

Although Mr. Meikle did not immediately abandon the 
great object which he had so long at heart, he was pushed 
into business as a surgeon by the zeal of his friends soon 
after he arrived at Carnwath, in 1762. AVhen he after- 
wards found that this was to be the employment of his 
life, he regreted, that, owing to the preponderance of a 
different subject of study, he had devoted less of his atten- 
tion to the study of surgery and medicine than he ought, 
and resolved to do what in him lay to repair his error. 
With this view, he not only gave attention to reading in 
the line of his profession, but arranged matters so that, 
without material injury to his business, he spent some 
months of the summer of 1764, in Edinburgh, in the stu- 
dy of midwifery, and some other branches of science. 

AVith what ability he discharged the duties of his sta- 
tion, the writer of this has no sufficient means of know- 
ledge. He finds, from some hints in Mr. Meikle's papers, 
that the tongue of slander, in several cases, reproached 



60 THE LIFE OE 

him for the manner in which he had treated patients ;* 
and in particular, that he had suffered exquisite distress 
from the malevolent insinuations of a person from whom 
he had reason to expect different treatment, respecting his 
conduct to his only and mufch-beloved sister, the last but 
himself of his father's family, who had kept house with 
him since his return to his native place, and who was cut 
off by a fever in the month of March, ITTO. One thing, 
however, is certain, that if some have practised with grea- 
ter skill, none ever did so with greater uprightness of in- 
tention, and few, veiy few" indeed, with as religious a de- 
pendance on God for his blessing on the means which he 
used for the health and cure of his fellow-creatures, and 
with as conscientious and lively a concern for both their 
tempora.1 and spiritual welfare. " I desire," says he, " to 
bear my patients on my mind ; they are my charge ; and 
I always implore a blessing on the means : for the appa- 
rently dying, I make much supplications in secret.'^ 
From his memorandums it appears, that before he under- 
took any operation which he deemed difficult, he applied 
to Crod in secret for direction and aid ; and many a pray- 
er stands recorded in his papers for the souls of those 
vrliom he has considered as dangerously ill. AA'hat reli- 
gious family would not prefer such assistance in distress, 
to that of in-eligious persons, of greater celebrity in the 
medical world 1 

Mr. Meikle devoted many of his leisure hours, during 
the first ten or twelve years after his settlement in Cam- 
Avath, to the revision of the papers which he had written 
at sea, or at an earlier period. He transcribed *' The 
Traveller," which occupies the greater part of this vol- 
ume; the greater part of " Solitude Sweetened," which 
was formerly published ; and " A ATord in Time of ]Veed, 
which may hereafter appear. He likewise transcribed 
" The Christian's Compass; Poems on the 119th Psalm," 
a volume of 340 pages ; " The Traveller Entertained ; 
or, Poems by Sea and Land ;" and " The Sacramental Ta- 
ble ; or, Poems on Redeeming Love ;" each of which, 
with the s^ibsequent additions, would make a volume 
equally large. Within the same spac€, he transcribed a 
considerable part of *' The Christian; Spiritual Poems 

* Solitude Sweetened, Med. XVUI. refers to one of these ca^e^. 



MRr JAMES MEIKLE. 61 

on several Subjects, relating to the Conduct of Provi- 
dence, and Cases of the Soul, in Four parts." To this he 
afterwards made many additions, and, entertaining seri- 
ous designs of publishing it in four small volumes, he first 
took a voyage to London, June, 1T90, to offer it to the 
booksellers, and afterwards proposed to print it by sub- 
scription at home ; but his design in both instances mis- 
gave, for this reason, among others, that he resolutely de- 
termined that the volumes should appear without a name. 
To this collection of his poetical Avritings must be added ^ 
" The House of Mourning" which has been printed ; 
" The Divine Epithalamium, or Song of Songs, Paraphra- 
sed," a volume formerly mentioned ; " A Poetical Pres- 
ent for a Bridegroom and Bride ;" " Emmanuel ;" " Amce- 
nitates ; or. Mercies Acknowledged ;" and, " Heaven ;" 
each considerable pamphlets, besides some smaller peices. 
The number and bulk of these manuscripts is such, that 
the truth would not be exceeded, had it been said that, 
instead of six or seven volumes, as formerly mentioned, 
they v»' ould fill eight volumes similar to the present. Of 
the publication of them, however, there is little prospect. 
The public taste for poetry is nice. It will not endure 
mediocrity ; and Mr. Meikle''s verse, though always pious, 
has seldom those flights of fancy which are often conspi- 
cuous even in his prose writings, or that smoothness of 
versification which is now, by the greater part, deemed 
an essential qualification of poetical compositions. It is 
indeed to be regretted, that Mr. Meikle appears to have 
been fonder of his poetical than of his prose composi- 
: ions, and devoted so much of that time which he so high- 
■ y valued, to a species of writing in which he less excel- 
i:d. If, instead of this, he had cultivated his talents for 
Vviitingin prose, the Christian world, indebted as they 
are to him, would have been laid under still deeper obli- 
'^;3tion3 by perhaps several volumes, equal or superior ta 
> lu^e which he has left for their edification. 

i; has already been noticed, that in the year ITTO, he 

L his only sister, and that his grief for her loss was em- 

lered by the tongue of malice, which ascribed it to his 

V \tiit of skill or of care. In what manner this mournful 

evoiit aft'eclcd him, may be seen by consultuig *'The 

"'lonthly Memorial," and " Secret Survey," at the proper 

\s. When he afterwards sat down, and surveyed the 



62 THE LIFE OV 

dreaiy solitude in wliich he was left, his grief flowed .' 
anew, and he cried out, *' O eternity! all my near rela-? 
lives are swallowed up in thee, and in a little I myself 
also shall be no more." It wag assuaged, however, by the \ 
consideration of the divine wisdom, and of his interest in ' 
the divine love and care. " O happy, not they who are 
not. afflicted, but they who have such a friend in their af- 
iiictions as I.-' 

His alSictions do not appear, either on this or on any 
other occasion, to have slackened, but rather to have 
quickened his progress in the divine life. He continued 
strict in the observance of religious duties, and in watch- 
fulness over his own heart. He persevered in an accu- 
rate and even minute observation of the conduct of di- 
vine providence, as " The iMonthly Memorial," every 
where shews with regra-d to others, and the " Secret Sur- 
vey," with regard to himself. He fi'equently, as in the 
earlier period of his life, devoted a day or a portion of a 
day to solemn humiliations, self-examination and prayer ; 
and occasionally, Avhen he had a family, kepi family-fasts, 
the reasons of several of which, have been found among 
his papers, and might have been inserted, were not this 
•account extending to too great a length. The Sabbath, 
in particular, was the joy of his heart. He made it his 
study to visit his patients, except in cases of emergency, 
either before or after the hours of public worship ; and ra- 
ther than be detained fi'om church when he did not ap- 
prehend inconvenience or danger by delaying his %-isit, 
risked incurring the displeasure of his emplo^rers, and the 
consequent loss of employment. Distinct notices are 
found among his papers of almost every Sabbath, from 
the year 1T6£, to the day of his death, and of the manner 
in which it was employed, whetlier at Church, in visiting 
the sick, or at home ; besides lists of all the texts which 
he heard discoursed on during that period, often Vvith the 
principal heads of discourse, and occasionally vrith brief 
hints of the frairie of his soul while hearing them. 

Mr. Meikle had a heart too warmly interested in the 
cause of Christ, to be able to look with indifference on 
what was passing around him in the Christian world. His 
private papers record almost every occnri-ence in hi^ 
neighbourhood which was calculated cither to alHict or 
gladden the hearts of tho CtchIIv ; the d^ath of faithful 



MR. JA>IES MEIKLE, 63 

ininisters, the feuds of Christian societies, the scandalous 
conduct of professors, and the propagation of error, on 
the one hand ; and the reformation of the abandoned, 
the apparent success of a gospel-rauiistry, and attempts to 
advance the interests of religion, on the other. They 
are so particular, indeed, that prudence requires their 
suppression. 

It was under the influence of this spirit of holy zeal, 
that in the year ITTT, he composed and prepared for the 
press, a considerable treatise which has been found among 
his manuscripts, in reply to the Rev. Dr. Dalgliesh of 
Peebles. That gentleman had rashly stated some ideas 
respecting theSonsliip of Christ, and attempted to sup- 
port them by means of a crude theory of animalcular ge- 
neration which excited very general alarm among the 
Godly in this country. His book has since sunk into de- 
served oblivion ; but while it yet lived, it was attacked, 
and with success by a host of adversaries. How it hap- 
pened that Mr. Meikle never published his answer, though 
it was prepared for the press, is unknown. His modesty 
in wishing to conceal his name, and his diffidence lest he 
should err in writing on so mysterious a subject, it is pro- 
bable, occasioned him to procrastinate, till others had got 
the start of him, and he deemed his answer unnecessary. 
"I intend," says he, August 19, ITTT, " great secrecy, 
and I am full of trembling lest I should err against the 
truth which I would defend. O to be guided of God, and 
to give God the glory I" 

After the death of his sister, Mr. Meikle found, in a 
greater degree than formerly, the necessity of entering 
into the marriage-state. He had made several attempts 
before that event, which it would be improper to detail, 
as well as some after it, which misgave ; and it was not 
till the 18th day of August, 1TT9, that he Vvas blessed 
with a partner of his cares, and a helper of his faith and 
joy. "It had always been," he says, "Secret Survey,'^ 
for that date, "a ruling principle with me, not to be une- 
qually yoked with unbelievers.'' How deeply his mind 
was impressed with the necessity of religion In one's part- 
ner for life, is strikingly shown by a small tract written. 
by liim on the eve of his marriage, but from v* inch, the 
•f^ngth to which this nari^ative has run out will not permit 
♦ ^ extract to be made. He sought a religious wife, and 



64 THE LIFE OE 

God at length heard his prayers. He was married to 
Agnes Smith, the daughter of a respectable farmer in his 
neighbourhood, and married, there is every reason to think, 
'' in the Lord." 

In the prospect of entering into this new relation, his 
intended wife and he, five days before entered into an 
agreement of a very diiferent tenor from those which 
commonl}^ occupy the sole attention of persons on the ' 
eve of marriage ; an agreement which refers not to the 
present world, but to the future. It is in preservation, 
and the reader would regret its omission. It runs thus « 

" As in all our w^ays we ought to acknowledge God, ( 
that he may direct our steps ; so, in prospect of our pro- ^ 
posed connection, which is of great moment, it is the du^ 
ty of each of us to implore the divine direction, and beg 
the heavenly blessing; and, in entering into it, to keep 
the following things in view : 

1. "As we should neither eat nor drink for ourselves, 
j8o in our marriage we should eye his glory, and study to 
Jive together as heirs of the grace of life. 

2. " As there is some difference in our views of some 
things, instead of suffering this to breed discord and con- 
tention between us, let it beget in us a proper concern 
for the divisions of Reuben, and continual supplication 
for the peace and prosperity of Zion, that as there is one 
Lord, so his name may be one in all the earth. 

3. "Let us expect troubles and trials while in the 
world, bear them with patience, and seek to get good out 
of them. 

4. " Let us take it for granted that each of us will find 
some failing to bear with in the other, and so resolve be- 
fore hand to behave wisely towards each other ; never to 
be both angry at once, to cover one another's faults, and 
to forgive one another. 

5. " Let us study to esteem, respect, and comfort one 
another, and so to live in love. 

6. " Let it be our joint and earnest request, that the 
grace of God may be in our hearts, his peace rule there, 
and his blessing rest on our house. 

7. "If blessed with children, let us remember that 
they are but loans, and may be soon recalled ; and when 
nne corrects, the othe* is not to defend them. Let ii«^ 



MH. JA.MES MEIKLE. bj 

bring tliem up for God, and much rather wish to see them 
gracious than great. 

8. " Let us remember that it is only the heavenly fa- 
vor that can make us happy, with little or with much ; 
for should he be provoked to send an evil spirit between 
lis, we VvGuld be miserable, whatever we might possess. 

9. " Jjet us depend on the providence of God with 
greater quiet and confidence than on gathered suras. 

10. *' Hereby we also engage, that the worship of God 
is to be kept up daily in our family, even though the hus- 
band should be called from home all night. 

. 11. " Moreover, wo are never to seek heaven on earth, 
or expect to find felicity below ; and so we must welcome 
that lot, prosperous or afflicted, which Heaven sees it fit 
lo send. 

12. " Let us reiiiember that one of us maybe snatched 
away by death before the other, and leave the survivor 
drowned in sorrow ; but let us study so to walk, that the 
survivor need notsorrow^ as they that have no hope. 

13, " Let us remember that this is not our rest, be- 
cause it is polluted, and let us rejoice that there remaineth 
a rest for the people of God. 

lA. " In all things let us endeavour to adorn the doc- 
trine of God, our Saviour, and to have our conversation 
in heaven, from whence we expect the Saviour to come. 

'' Aug, 13, 1TT9. (Signed) *' JAMES MEIKLE, 
^' AGNES SMITH.'^ 

The second article of this engagement makes it neces» 
sary to mention, that Mrs. Meikle was connected with 
that branch of the Secession which is denominated Anti- 
burgher, while Mr. Meikle himself was in communion 
with the other, styled Bui-gher. Thougli they belonged 
to different communions, neither appears to have i}een 
animated by the intolerant spirit of party. They mu- 
tually granted the liberty of conscience which they de- 
manded ; and enjoyed that pleasure and delightful har- 
mony in private Christian fellowship, whicli the members 
of both societies, if possessed of a little more of ther spi- 
rit, might enjoy in church felloAvship, notwithstanding 
the minute and unimportant points in which they differ. 
In proof of this, it is not unworthy of notice, that Big- 
gar, where Mr. Meikle attended divine worship, lle^ 
f2 



65 THE LIF£ OF 

some miles beyond Ejlfrighill, where the coDgregatioii 
of which Mrs. Meikle was a member assembled ; and that 
he usually conducted his wife in the morning to Elifrig- 
hill, and returned by the same road in the evening to bring 
her home. It appears also from a paper which has been 
found in his possession, that he interested himself deeply 
in procuring assistance for the worthy, man under whose 
ministry she sat, whose circumstances, through the po- 
verty of his congregation, were veiy much straitened. 
To these proofs that they not only lived in harmony, but 
as heirs together of the grace of life, others might be ad- 
ded. It is enough to mention further that it was their 
custom, besides the prayers of the family, and secret 
prayer, to join together in prayer by turns after they went 
to bed, before they composed themselves to sleep ;* and 
that occasionally, when they could find convenience, 
they devoted a day, or part of a day, to solemn humilia- 
tion and prayer. 

A paper dated February 3, IToO, and entitled " For 
a family fast," has been found in Mr. Meikie's hand wri- 
ting, and subscribed both by him and his wife, which will 
give some idea of the manner in which these days of pri- 
vate devotion were observed. It is arranged under four 
heads; confessions, grateful acknowledgements, petitions, 
and resolutions. They confess before God, that they 
have not in all things set God before them ; that they 
have found too much pleasure in perishing things ; that 
they have sometimes had unbelieving fears and distrust of 
divine providence ; that they have felt an inclination at 
times to prescribe to God with respect to w hat he should 
give or withhold ; that they do not improve time and the 
quiet which they enjoy as they ought; that they are not 
so deeply affected with the sins of others, nor with the 
afflictions and divisions of Zion as they should ; and that 
they have not a due sense of gratitude for the many com- 
forts of their lot. They express their gratitude to God 
for the appearance of religion in their family ; for the 
peace and harmony enjoyed in their house ; for the boun- 
ty of providence in supplying their wants ; for the good 
crop which they had last season ; for their continued 
health, while many around them were afflicted ; and be- 

* See Monthly Memorial, Oct. §, 1781. 



MR. JAMES MEIKLK. 6T 

cause their dependance was on the providence of heaven, 
and not on creature security. Tiieir petitions are, that 
religion may flourish, and professoi*s see eye to eye in the 
truth ; that gracejuay be bestowed on themselves, and on 
all their friends ; that if children are given them, they 
may belong to the election of grace, and early know 
God; that the blessing of the womb and the breasts may 
come together ; that both may be enabled to instruct and 
correct children, if given them, as becometh christian pa- 
rents; and the like. And their resolutions are, not to 
build their happiness on the creature ; to submit without 
murmuring to death when sent into their family ; to keep 
their hearts for God, and not to give tliem to any other ; 
to appspove of Providence, should he be pleased to be- 
reave them of their all, seeing they had their treasure in 
heaven ; to keep up the worship of God in their house, 
and, finally, to look out for death, and improve for eter- 
nity. 

Some months after, Mr. Meikle discovers the gratitude 
of his heart for the happiness he enjoyed in the marriage 
relation, and the tender solicitude of an aftectionate and 
pious husband, by expressing himself in this manner : 
" May 30, 1780. I wish to implore divine mercy in these 
things. 1. That as God has been pleased to set me, who 
was once solitary, in a family, and bestowed on me one 
that fears his name, he would be pleased, to spare her, 
and increase her graces. 2. As it has pleased Heaven 
that she is with child, and near her time, that the child 
may be God's in life or in death. O that its soul may 
live before God 1 3. That she may have a happy delive- 
ry, and that I may bless God for a living mother and a 
living child. 4. That if the child be spared, it may be 
early brought home to God. 5. I acknowledge that I 
leaned on thy providence for providing m.e a help-mate, 
and I have not had cause to complain of my divine sup- 
port and guide. O to act faith always on himl" 

. This happiness did not long continue. Mrs. Meikle, 
some months after the birth of her first child, fell into bad 
health. Hopes and fears appear for a long period to have 
had the ascendency alternately in his mind ; and her re- 
covery, uniformly for more than twelve months, forms 
ore of the petitions recorded in his private papers. On 
^^e ITtb of 31^7, 1T01, they united together in supplica- 



&B THE LIFE or 

tions to God for the restoration of her liealtii, and express 
themselves thus : *' On account of the long distress in our 
family, we derire to humble ourselves before God, and to 
justify the heavenly conduct ; for we have sinned, and 
have had our hearts too little on our native countiy, too 
little on heavenly things. While we accept of chastise- 
ment from our heavenly Father, we desire to turn to him 
that smites us ; and we humbly plead. 1. For patience 
till he remove his rod from us. 2. For tlie sanctified use 
of this affliction. 3. That he would be pleased to restore 
to such a measure of health, that we may be enabled to 
attend on sacramental solemnities in the ensuing summer, 
and find his presence there. L That he would direct us 
to right means for recovery, and bless the means used. 5. 
That we may not rely too much on the means used, but 
look to him alone. 6. That he may bless our child, and 
hold his hand about her. T. That he may give us his spe- 
cial presence in the time of our affliction, and make all 
tend to his a'lory and our good. 

(Signed) '' X MEIKLE, 

'^ AGNES M^IKLE.^' 

The aiSiction, however, continued and increased du- 
ring the ensuing summer, tiis prayers and tears could 
not avert the stroke with which Providence designed to 
chasten him. She languished till she brought forth a se- 
cond child, which was still-born, and survived this event 
only three weeks. On the 11th of October, 1T81, he was 
left a widower, mourning the loss of an amiable partner, ' 
yet not mourning as one of those who have no hope of 
their own happiness, or of the happiness of those who 
have been snatched from their embraces. 

His exercise on this mournful occasion may be learned 
by perusing the Monthly Memorial, and Secret Survey, 
under the proper date. In addition to what is to be found 
there, it appears from some other private papers, that h6 
revered the providence of God in the dispensation, sub- . 
mitted to it as the correction of a father, and amidst his ,' 
grief rejoiced in the persuasion of the happiness of her 
whose loss he bewailed. On the 22d of October he 
writes thus: " This day my dear -wife and I intended a 
private fast ;* but now she is removed by death, and I 

* For some days after Uer deliyery slie was apparently recoyerin;;:. 



1£K. JAMES MEiKI,E* '69 

am left alone to mourn the loss of a religious companion. 
O to take God in place of all I O comfort me against 
grief on every side ! I wish not to have a stupid insensi- 
bility of such a loss ; 1 wish also not to rise up in rebel- 
lion against the conduct of Heaven, who is sovereign of 
all. I desire to lie low in the dust, and to go softly, be- 
cause thou hast done it." And on the ^th he expresses 
himself in this manner : " This day in my solitude, and 
after the loss of a dear wife, a religious companion, I de- 
sire to take God for my God, and the God of my child ; 
and I make a cheerful surrender of myself and my child 
to God. I roll her over on his divine protection ; and 
though I too were to be called out of the world, I can 
commit her to him, the best of parents and the best of 
guardians, who is a father of the fatherless. I wish to 
live only for his glory, and to his praise." The same day 
among the mercies which he acknowledges to the praise 
of God, he enumerates the following : '* That my dearest 
friend is gone to glory ; that my child is in good health ; 
that God, though he has afflicted, has not cast me oif ; 
that there is a fulness of grace and consolation in God 
for me ; — that God has been pleased to connect me w ith 
a dear saint, and to bless us with the greatest peace and 
liarmony in our married life, though he has seen fit to 
make it very short : but the thought is sweet that she is 
gone to glory." 

Mrs. Meikle's character may be described in her hus- 
band's words, proposed to be engraved on her monument : 

" How sweet she shone in social life. 
As daughter, sister, friend, and wife 1 
The closet, field, and shady grove. 
Attest her pray'rs, her vows, her love. 
Now done with all below the sun, 
She shines before the highest throne. 
Her race was swift, her rest is sweet, 
Her views divine, her bliss complete ; 
Her song's sublime, her transports sw«l}v 
Her state eternal, God her all : 
This, this alone, her husband cheers, 
And joy wipes off the briny teUTs." 



TO THB I.IFE 01 

Here, however, though with reluctance, the writer oi' 
this must stop. The unexpected length to which this nar- 
rative has ran out, obliges him to forbear entering into any 
details of the remaining eighteen years of Mr. Meikle's life, 
and to break off his account at the very period when his 
personal acquaintance with him began. Materials still 
remain for exhibiting his character and exercise in various 
points of view. If what has been written should meet 
with acceptance, and promise to be useful, he may be in- 
duced to enlarge his account, and carry it down to the 
close of Mr. Meikle's life ; if not, more than enough has 
been already said. 

He cannot close his account of him, however, without 
mentioning, in a word, that he was married again, in the 
month of November, 1785, to the worthy woman who 
yet survives to mourn his loss ; that in July, 1789, he 
was ordained to the eldership in the congregation of Big- 
gar ; that in the course of the year 1797, having over- 
come the reluctance to appear professedly as an author, 
which had prevented the publication of those pieces which 
he had formerly intended for the press, he printed his 
" Metaphysical Maxims ;" and that on the 7th of Decem- 
ber, 1799, he was removed from this world to a better, 
leaving behind him a name which is better than precious 
ointment, and a widow and five children, with little on 
^vhich to depend for future support but the good provi- 
dence of that God, who, to use his ovvn words, " had gui- 
ded him through all his wandering, and supplied him du- 
ring life to his heart's content." 

The cheerfulness of his disposition continued to the 
last. Disappointments never soured his temper. Though 
'Strict both in his principles and morals, he never appear- 
ed sullen or morose ; he was rather cheerful, jocular, and 
merry. There does not appear, for forty years, among 
all his voluminous papers, notwithstanding the many se- 
vere censures which he passes in them upon himself, one 
exj^ressioii from which it can be certainly concluded, 
ihat he entertained any doubt of his interest in the di- 
vine favour. This, and the constitutional gaiety of his tem- 
per, will account for the surprise whicli many of his most 
Intimate acquaintances have expressed at the perusal of 
his writings, and explain what otherwise might be deem- 
ed paradoxical, that a man uniforrajy cheerful in compa- 



MR. JAMES MEIKLE. 71 

ny, should in private, make death and the future world 
the favourite subjects of his meditations. To him death 
was surrounded with no terrors I the future world capti- 
vated his imagination, and filled him, as frequently as he 
contemplated it, with most exquisite joy. He maintained 
his reputation for piety, and his unshaken faith in God, 
to the end ; and the God whom he served, honoured him 
with continued usefulness in his station, almost to his last 
hour. On the first of December, he officiated at Lanark 
as an elder in the dispensation of the Lord's supper; on 
the second, he wrote a short article in the Monthly Me- 
morial ; on the sixth, he was still serving medicines to his 
patients ; on the seventh he was with God, 

J. R 

Edinburgh, June 12, 1805. 



THE 



'-«=^ggCQ^O^ as 

MEDITATION I. 

Going abroad. 



Wi 



1T5T» 



HAT a load of business presses rae on ev- 
ery hand when about to leave my native country I I must 
state and clear with all my creditors and debtors before i 
go ! Besides, when I am about my ordinary business, a 
little pocket-money will defray my charges ; but it is not 
so when going abroad ; I must have bills of exchange for a 
considerable sum, and changes of apparel agreeable to 
that part of the world to w^hich I am bound. 

Now, if I am thus busied, thus anxious and concerned 
about my going from one part to another of this terrestri- 
al globe, with what justice will all this care, anxiety, and 
concern, be increased, when I must commence my jour- 
ney to eternity, and set out for the other? This is an 
event that unavoidably awaits me ; and who can tell hov/ 
soon ? Of Avhat folly would I prove myself possessed, 
should I propose to go so far without a farthing ? But 
v^ith much greater madness would I be intoxicated, should 
I launch into eternity without an interest in the hea- 
venly treasure. To be poor in any part of this world, 
begets contempt among the men of the world ; but pover- 
ty in the world of spirits, is an eternal shame, and an ir- 
retrievable loss. 

Again, w^ould I not blush to go w ith tattered cloaths 
and coloured shoes, to a part of the W'Orld where it is fash- 
ionable to be finely dressed ? How, then, shall I appear 
without the wliite raiment of a Saviour's righteousness, * 
'H ihe presence of God, where ancrHs^'valk in robes of in- 



'™ 



74 THE TRAVELLER. 

nocence, and saints in broidered garments ? When the 
marriage of the Larab shall be come, and his v/ife shall 
have made herself ready, if found without the wedding- 
garment, with what confusion of face shall I be covered, 
and with what anguish cast into outer darkness ! 

How I am hurried at the last in setting out, notwith- 
standing I have been so long proposing, and so long pre- 
paring for this voyage I Yea, an express arrives, that the 
ship is ready to sail, and I am taken, as it were, un'awares, 
though for some time I have been expecting such a mes- 
sage. Then, since I have this momentous, this interres- 
ting voyage into the world of spirits before me, let my 
daily study be so to set all my grand concerns in order, 
that when death the transport comes, I may have nothing 
to do but set my foot aboard, and be wafted over to the 
land of rest. Again, though looking for death daily, yet 
I, and all my friends, may be surprised at last. 

Now of friends and acquaintances I take a long fare- 
well ; but at death I bid the whole world an eternal adieu. 



MEDITATION IT. 

On taking farewelL 

1T57. 

Etery thing beneath the sun has vanity and vexa- 
tion engraven on it ; and it is fit it should be so, lest men, 
possessing what they aspire after, should forget them- 
seives. So we see, we feel, that pleasure is intenvoven 
with pain, sweet with sour, joy with sorrow, riches with 
anxiety and cares, greatness with torment, health with 
disease, and life with death. 

When I took fiirewell of my friends to see other na- 
tions, and rise into a more universal knowledge of the 
world and men (trifles that please an aspiring mind) yet 
how were all my line prospects more than balanced to 
think, that I might never see my native land again, the 
land of liberty and light, the Hephsibah of God ! What if 
I should drop into the unfathomed deeps of the ocean, 
$ind be a prey to the finny tribe ? But, abstracting from 
these gloomy forethoughts:, how wasjoy turned into a flow 



THE TKATi3LLER, 15 

of friendly sorrow ! Can I yet forget the aftectionate grasp 
of hand, the melting iear^ the parting kiss^ and kindly lookj 
as if it might have been the last, * and all friends so near 
and dear? Yet this must be : I must either forbear going 
abroad, or take farewell of all my friends ; and who 
knows if ever I shall see them again, till in another world, 
where the nearest ties are loosed, and the dearest relation 
dissolved, unless a spiritual relation unite our souls to 
him, of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is 
named, a family that shall never scatter or be dispersed 
through the ages of eternity ! The highest wisdom of 
the traveller, then, is to get himself made a member of 
the heavenly family. Thus, when the frail famiiy, of 
which he is a mortal member, must be divided, parted, 
and spread abroad, some in death, some in distant lands, 
he shall never be cast out of the celestial family, nor de- 
nied the high privileges thereof, but may cry to God, Ab- 
ba, Father, and shall find him not far off, when roaring 
oceans interrupt the father's passionate care, and bound 
the tender mother's melting flow of affection. Without 
such a relation we are orphans, though we had the best 
of fathers, and the kindest of mothers ; we are friendless, 
though we had the most sympathizing sisters, and obli- 
ging brothers ; destitute, amidst our numerous, rich, and 
Efiunificcnt relations ; and more desolate than the pelican 
of the wilderness, or the midnight owl, though crowded 
with visitants, and among a world of acquaintances. But, 
blessed with it, no tongue can tell our happiness. Our 
heavenly Father, knows our need, is ever at our hand ; 
his power a.nd promptitude to do us good exceed the fa- 
ther, excell the kindly mother ; his mercy outshines the 
sympathizing sisters, and hi: bounty the obliging brother; 
his promises are better than all our relations, his provi- 
dence than our richest friends; and his presence than a 
Vv^orld of acquaintance, or the levee of kings. In such a 
situation, the deserts of Arabia shall please, like the pla- 
ces where we were born and brought up. May this, then, 
be my case, and I am happy in my peregrinations, and 
joyful in ray journeys. 

* The Author never saw some trienils, alluded to above, again Jn 
life, particularly his mother. 



<b THE TRAVET.XEB. 

MEDITATION HI. 

The temper of him thai goes abroad. 

Now I leave my native land in peace with all^ and 
wish well to friends and foes, as no doubt I have both. 

Gratitude binds me not to forget my friends ; grace, to 
forgive my foes. He carries but a poor principle in his 
breast, that goes away swoln with rage, in hopes to return 
and revenge ; for'' anger rests only in the bosom of fools.'* 
It is a Christian grace to forgive even the worst of inju- 
ries ; for it ennobles a man more to conquer the wicked 
principle of his corrupt nature than to take a city. Would 
I revenge a personal quarrel on any at the day of judg« 
meut ? Surely no. Shall I, then, carry rancour to the ^ 
very grave, or lie down in a condition in which I would 
not wish to rise ? Therefore my passion shall be convert- 
ed into pity, and I will not only forgive men what they s 
may have done amiss to me, but implore forgiveness for^. j 
them in that wherein they may have offended God. Thus 1 
shall I go lightly, compared with the mental madman who 
cherishes revenge. He continually carries about with 
him a load of hurtful two-edged weapons, in hopes to find 
his foe, and satiate his revenge upon him ; but, while he 
waits his opportunity, he slips a foot, and falls among the 
pointed weapons, which w^ound him unto death. So^ 
must every malicious person fare at last, who falls over 
the precipice of time into eternity, full of envy, and in- 
flamed with wrath. 



MEDITATION IV. 

On finding many passengers on shore, 

, Leith, March, 1T58. 
J 

Before I came from home, I knew not of a single 
person but myself that was to set out from the same port 
to the same place ; but, on my arrival here, I find a great 
many from every corner of the land, waiting a fair wind 



THE TKATELliEK, TT 

to forward them in their intended passage. And may not 
this call to my mind, tbett, though only now and then, one 
here, and another there, departs this life, yet on the con- 
fines of endless ages, on the borders of the invisible 
world, what numbers of departing souls are daily passing 
from every part of the inhabited globe, to appear before 
the tremendous bar I 

If we glance the mortality bills of well peopled cities, 
the numbers that daily die are astonishing. And though 
nothing be more common than death, yet nothing is more 
affecting than dissolution. 

I have taken one step, which may remind me of anoth- 
er that shall overtake me, and that, being ray last transla- 
tion, shall never be succeeded by a future. Let not, then, 
my improvidence in spiritual things, cause me to repent, 
when repentance, though perpetuated, may be too late. 



MEDITATION Y. 

On arriving at a strange city. 



London . 



Thousands and ten thousands are the inhabitants 
of this place, and yet few or none of them do I know- 
How soon is man a stranger among his fellow-creatures I 
He may be acquainted with the people where he was born 
and brought up, or where he dwelt ; but a few days jour- 
ney convinces him, even among the multitude of men, that 
he is a stranger on this earth ; for where he is acquainted 
with one, he is unacquainted with ten thousands. This 
admonishes me to account the world a strange country, 
and myself as only passing through it to ray native coun- 
try, and therefore to fix my affections on the things that 
are above, whither I am hastening. 

My next reflection leads me to admire thine omniscence 
with astonishment. Not a person among these many 
thousands but thou knowest their business, their actions, 
and their way of life, yea more, their words and very- 
thoughts. Thou also rulest and governest them in all their 
'^arious actions, numbers of whom have never known thee* 
G 2 



78 THE T11AVELL£K. 

Nor does the conduct of thy providence only extend to 
this circle of men, bnt to every individual through the ex- 
tensive universe. O wisdom to be adored I O power to 
be depended on ! And shall not I, who am but one, trust 
in thee who orderest all the world so well ! Not only the 
peaceful village in its ordinary round of human life, but 
the hostile plain in all the tumult and confusion of war, 
confesses thy sceptre. Then, if all have an interest in thy 
common providence, shall not I have an interest in thy 
special care ? 

My next reflection is on the almost incredible number* 
of my fellow-creatures who inhabit here ; and if I throw 
my thought through the world, what greater numbers, 
what nations are held in life I what then must the general 
assembly at the great assize be, if, according to some, ev- 
ery thirty or forty years sweepr? the world of all its inhab- 
itants? By the same great God, who now goveras with 
wisdom, shall all this mighty assembly be judged with equi- 
ty, who v/ill render to every one acccording to his works. 
While thousands hang their head for shame, may I be 
among those who shall lift up their face with joy before 
the great congregation. 



MEDITATION VI. 

Good and had. men mixed logelher hi ilie ivorhl. 

London^ April 16, 11^ 5B. 

Now the world of mankind is a mingled multitude ; 
good and bad are mixed together ; v» heat and tares grovv 
in one field ; yea, they dwell now in one house, of whom 
at the last day one shall be taken and the other left. This 
is a griev^ance which cannot be avoided, for we must have 
connexion with the wicked in the affairs of life, else we 
must go out of the world. But to some j)ersons, as to me 
at present, there are certain stages of life, in which they 
are as it were, chained with tbe wicked, and handcuffed 
%vith the sons of vice, to whom the things of God are fool- 
ishness, and by whom the concerns cf the immortal soui 
?je never taken into coagidcratiou. They live as if they 



THE TRA.TE1LLEE. T9 

were to live for ever in this present state, or as if when 
they die they should never see a resurrection. 

What comfort, then, should it be to rny soul, that He 
who once made all things, will again make all things new I 
He will, as in the old creation, divide, not only between 
night and day, but between the sons of night, and the 
children of the day. And while those are covered with 
shame and confusion of face, and cast into the blackness 
of darkness for ever, the righteous shall shine as the stars, 
and as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Then 
shall the people speak a pure language, and to the peo- 
ple of a pure language will the Lord turn, in all the 
brightest manifestations of his glory. Perverse thoughts 
within, and profane talk without, shall no more disquiet. 
Neither wicked company nor wandering cogitations shall 
vex the child of God any more in the house of God. 
Then they that walk with him in white, shall talk with 
one another on the sublimest subjects of eternity, on the 
love and sufferings of the Son of God. Idle words ia 
that state of perfection shall cease, where every speech 
is pure and spotless, every whisper celestial, every word 
divine, and all is one ravishing encomium on redeeming 
love I 



MEDITATION YII. 

On bewg enabled to resist a teinpialicn. 

London, April IT, 1T53. 

Grace to help in time of need is the gift of God to 
the child of grace, and the greatest blessing we can re- 
ceive from heaven in a state exposed to temptations from 
eveiy quai-ter. 

All within me desires to bless thy holy name, that when 
the temptation was near, thou wast not far off; and that, 
as it was consistent with thy divine wisdom to permit me 
to be tempted to sin, it was also consistent with thy grace 
and goodness to strengthen and deliver me when I was 
tempted. As my finite wisdom cannot prevent, by ti- 
mecus foresight, my being overtaken with teii) stations, 



^0 THE TRAVELLER. 

fiO my feeble powers cannot resist when overtaken. I 
have thy providence, therefore, to magnify, that I am 
not overtaken with more temptations than 1 am ; and thy 
grace to adore, that I am not overcome with every 
temptation tiiat I am overtaken with. 

Human nature (and in me more so then in many) is 
like a pile of dry and prepared wood for fuel, and temp- 
tation is like a spark of fire cast into it ; then it must be 
power divine that hinders all from going into a blaze. O 
kind compassion 1 O tender mercy ! O glorious good will 1 
I am nothing ; hence I shall think humbly of myself, but 
highly of thy grace. 

What a thorny path is human life ! Haw is it strewed 
with snares, gins, and traps, for head and feet, for heart 
and hands. If I ^ift up my head in pride, I fall into the 
condemnation of the devil. If I look not well to my 
goings, I am cast into a net by mj own feet, and walk 
upon a snare. Vanity is ready to fill my heart, and wick- 
edness ray hands. Not an organ of my body, but satan 
has his battery played against it ; for my ear, the instruc- 
tion that causeth to err ; for my sight, the lust of the 
eye; and for my touch, the handling of the things that 
perish. He turns desire into covetousness, care into 
anxiety, fear into despair ; would run down hope, mis- 
call faith, and cast the soul loose of both. Seeing then, 
that I am thus beset with snares on every side, from eve- 
ry hand, O that on my soul, my one precious stone, there 
may be seven eyes^ and ?. protection round about me bet- 
ter than horses and chariots of fire. 

Two lessons I am taught, which, through grace, I ne= 
ver shall forget : 1. To be diffident of myself; 2. To be 
confident in Ood, strong in his grace, and to boast in hira 
all the day long. Let the sanctity of my after life, shew 
the sincerity of my gratitude. And may I mind with 
]oy, tiiat thy name, as to my sweet experience I havt' 
..mirl. i- a " preeent help in time of trouble.'^ 



THE TRAVELLER. 81 

MEDITATION Till. 

The Premises a Divine Treasure* 

London, April 19, 1T50. 

Once, with the unthinking world, I esteemed the 
poor miserable, and called, if not the proud, yet the rich 
happy ; but now, since I glanced the volumes of rev ela- 
tion, I am of another mind. If we compare poor and 
rich in scripture account, we easily see a mighty odds; 
for while a threatening is dropt here and there against 
the one, to the other pertain the precious promises. 
** AVoe to you that are rich, for ye have received y»ur 
consolation." " Go, now, ye rich men, weep and howl 
for your miseries that shall come upon you." Thus rich- 
es, though not a curse in themselves, yet, to depraved and 
corrupt nature, yield so many opportunities, set so many 
baits to sin, that it is a sacred and friendly admonition. 
** Labour not to be rich." Were we only to inspect the 
lives and deaths of the righteous, it might make us wel- 
come poverty that defends us, by depriving us of so many 
opportunities to destroy ourselves ; but when we see the 
surprising expressions of paternal care that Heaven has 
replenished the oracles of truth with, we can do no less 
than account the poor the happy ones ; for such is the 
mercy of God, that when a man is in misery, then he be- 
comes the object of his mercy, 

NoVv% to show that the promises of God are not bare 
expressions of good will, let his providential conduct be 
surveyed, as recorded in the word of truth, and that in 
a few instances. 

Hagar, an Egyptian, Sarah's handmaid, flees from the 
face of her unfriendly misti-ess ; flees to whom she knows 
not, whither she cannot tell. She sits down by a well of 
water in the wilderness, no doubt overcome with sorrow. 
But then the angel of the Lord accosts her ; tells her 
that the Lord had heard her afl3iction ; speaks comfort to 
her, and makes her a promise, under a grateful sense of 
all which she calls the name of the Lord, that thus pre- 
sented her with unexpected kindness, *' Thou, God, 
seest me," — Again, the same Hager is plunged into a 



OS)' 



THE TRAVELLER. 



new scene of distress. Ker care and confusion are aug- 
mented, as she is not now alone in her perplexity, but 
has her son, her only son with her, the object of her fond- 
est affection, and the hope of her infirm old age. The 
bottle is spent, and the stripling, for thii-st, the worst of 
all deaths, must die. Her melting bowels being unable 
to behold the agony of bis last niomeuts, she lays him 
dovm under a shrub, to screen him from the sultry heat, 
and goes away from him. Yet maternal care will not let 
her go too far a"way ; so she sits down over against him, 
ant] iixes her eyes on the melancholy spot. And now 
her grief cannot be contained, as before, in agitating 
thoughts, but bursts out in briny tears: ■•he lifts up 
her voice aloud, and weeps. AVell, the God that saw 
her before, sees her still. The voice of the la:l, who no 
doubt mingled his tears and complaints with his mother's 
is heard ; and Hagar^s eyes are opened to see a fountain, 
at which she fills the bottle, gives him drink, and he re- 
vives again, — 

It may not be amiss to nrane a few more instances of 
providential care ; as. Lot's rescue by Abraham, when he 
and all he had were taken captive ; and afterwards his 
miraculous deliverance out of Sodom : — Jacob's preserva- 
tion from angry Laban, when pursued and overtaken by 
him ; and his still more amazing deliverance from Esau's 
rooted revenge, which is converted into congratulations, 
tears, and embraces : — The astonishing history of Joseph, 
through all its unparalJeled scene?: : The deliverance of 
the children of Israel, when their bo):< Jage was grown 
insupportable, leading them tiirough the Red Bea, v, hile 
their pursuers perished in the waters; feeding them in the 
wilderness with manna from heaven, and keeping their 
clothes from waxing old. And how many times, in the 
book of Judges, even when his people had sinned against 
him, did he shoAV mercy to them in their extremity of mi- 
sery? The accounts of Naomi, Huth, and Hannah, 
show how the mercy of God takes place in all the circum- 
stances of the afflicted. The memorable passage of the 
ark of God in the Philistines' land ; Jonathan's victory ov- 
i»r the Philistines ; the death of giant Goliah, who had de- 
fied the armies of Israel, by the hand of David, who after- 
wards has a beautiful chain of deliverances from a perse- 
f',nting Saul, and in hisoJd age from the rebellion of his 



THE TRATELLER. ^ m 

unnatural son ; the protection of the seven and thirty 
worthies, amidst the dangers they were exposed to; Eli- 
jah fed by ravens, creatures that live on carrion, and y^t 
they bring bread and flesh to the man of God twice a 
day I the widow 's barrel of meal, and cruise of oil blessed 
so as not to w aste by using ; Elijah's forty days journey 
in the strength of one meal ; small armies defeating great 
hosts ; armies supplied with water in a miraculous way ; 
the barren woman made to bear ; the dead restored to 
life again ; poison prevented from doing mischief, and food 
augmented , the three children preserved in the lire, and 
Daniel in the lion's, den ; all manner of diseases cured by 
Christ, and bis servants, the prophets and apostles ; the 
lepers cleansed, the blind made to see, the deaf to hear, 
the dumb to sing, and the lame to leap ; the deliverance 
of the diL-cipies on the lake, of Peter, when sinking, and^ 
afterwards when kept in prison, a destined sacrifice to 
cruelty and rage ; Paul's escape when w atched in Da- 
mascus, and when laid fast in the stocks with Silas, in the 
inner prison ; when shipwrecked, and when the viper 
fastened on his hand : — ^Iheseare some instances that the 
promises of God have been made out to his people in 
their adversities. And let those, on the one hand, who 
have no changes, and therefore fear not God, know, that 
they have'neither part nor lot in these promises. But 
on the other hand, let him know that suffers under tlie 
greatest load of afflictions, that he has a right to tlie great- 
est number of promises ; and that whenever he loses ano- 
ther enjoyment, then he has a right to another promise, 
which makes up that loss wdth a redundancy of good- 
ness. 

Now, let us glance at a few of these many great pro- 
mises, that in all cases and conditions we may take com- 
fort. 

If we are troubled wdth sin in its uprisings in our 
hearts, and outbreakings in our life, to us then the promise- 
speaks, " I will take away the hard and stoney heart : 
I am he that blotteth out your iniquities as a cloud, and 
your sins as a thick cloud : he will subdue all our iniqui- 
ties, and cast our sins into the depths of the sea, so that 
in the day when Israel's sins shall be sought for, they 
shall not be found : Sin shall not hav^e dominion over 
you ; I will heal their backslidings ; I will love thera 



S4 THE TRAVELLER. 

freely.'' — Again, with respect to temptation, Iiear the 
promise, " He will not suffer you to be tempted above 
that ye are able to bear, but will with the temptation 
make a way to escape." Moreover, this promise is made 
by him, who being once tempted himself, knows how to 
succour them that are tempted. Also, if we fear lest w^e 
fall into sin, or be overcome when we are buffeted, hear 
what he says, " My grace is sufficient for thee, for my 
strength is made perfect in weakness : The just shall hold 
on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stron- 
ger and stronger : The righteous shall be like the palm 
tree in Lrebanon, always flourishing and bringing forth 
fruit, even in old age, when others fade." — If suddenly 
attacked by the tongue of reproach, or accused at the bar 
of iniquity, he promises, that in that hour it shall be gi- . 
ven how and what to speak, and therefore we should take 
no anxious forethoughts in the matter. 

With his saints in all their afflictions, he is afiiicted, 
and his gracious promises measure breadth and length to 
■ill the trouble and distress that can befal them — ^If poor 
in spirit, those he cheers, and contemns not his prisoners. 
A bruised reed he will not break, nor quench the smoking 
liax ; but deals very compassionately with young con- 
verts, carries the lambs in his bosom, and gently leads 
them that are with young : He com.mands Peter to mani- 
fest his love to him by feeding his sheep, his lambs : And 
says to those in the pangs of the new birth, " Shall I 
cause to come to the birth, and not give strength to bring 
forth?"— Again, if til ey are poor as to this v.orld, he 
not only makes promises, to them himself, but importunes 
others to do them good ofSces ; and that he may prevail 
with them, promises to them, that he that considers the 
case of the poor, shall not lie on a bed of languishing un- 
considering, but have his bed made by God in his sickness. 
O poor man! he puts thee and himself on one side, by 
promising to repay, as lent to him, what is given to thee. 
Every^^here in the scripture he instructs us to feed the 
hungry, refj-esh the v. eary, clothe the naked, receive the 
outcasts : " Let mine outcast dwell with thee, Moab ; be 
thou a covert to them :" To entertain the stranger and 
the traveller kindly, to do justice to the oppressed, to 
help the v. idovv, and judge the cau?e of the fatherless. — 
To the ainicicd he projiiises deliverance in the day of 



THE travelleu, 8.> 

trouble : " Call upon me in the day of trouble, I will de- 
liver thee : I will be with thee in trouble to deliver thee : 
I will never fail thee nor forsake thee, till I have perfor- 
med the promised good." If exposed to calumny, says 
the promise, " Thou shalt be hid from the scourge of the 
tongue:" or if reproached, *'He shall bring forth thy 
judgment as the noon-day." 

Now, though the promises suit the saints in their vari- 
ous stations, yet, as the afflicted and needy ones have a 
double share of trouble and sorrow, so they have a dou- 
ble portion of the promises. If they are exposed to 
storms and drought, he promises to be an hiding-place 
from the storm, a covert from the tempest, as the shadow 
of a great rock in a weary land, and as refreshful rivers 
in a parched place. If they are reckoned as the refuse of 
the world, and the off-scouring of all things, he counter- 
balances this, by promising them that he will honour them^ 
set them on high, and confess their names before his Fa^ 
ther, and his holy angels. But they may be in doubt how 
or where to walk, and how to act ; then, says he, *^ I will 
lead the blind by a way they know not ; 1 will make 
crooked places straight, and rough places plain : these 
things will I do unto them, and not forsake them." And 
when they are so nonplussed as not to know what hand to 
turn to in their doubts and distress, he says, '* Stand still 
and see the salvation of tlie Lord." Hence says the 
psalmist, and all saints may say it after him *' Thou wilt 
guide me with thy counsel while I live." 

But death may invade their family, and lessen the num- 
ber of their relations. Then says he, *' I am the resur- 
rection and the life ; and the hour is coming, when all 
that are in their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of 
man, and shall come forth:" Therefore, sorrow not for 
your dead as they that have no hope ; for they are bles- 
sed that die in the Lord, and it is better to be gone, and. 
be with Jesus, than remain here. 

If they are subject to bodily infirmity, and bowed down 
by disease ; then says he, " 1 am the Lord that healeth 
thee ;" and he often shews himself merciful to such as sit 
in darkness, and in the shadow of death, being bound 
with cords of affliction, and sends his word and healeth 
them. But the disease may be spiritual, and so of a more 
piercing and pungent nature ; yet says he, " I will restore 

R 



56 THE TRAVELLER. 

health to his mourners :" He healeth the broken in heai^t , 
and bindeth up their Avounds ; and gives the oil of joy 
for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of 
heaviness. — If their grief be on account of the decay of 
religion, or the afflicted state of. Zion, these promises 
may yield them comfort, " That Israel shall revive as the 
corn, grow as the lily, and cast forth her roots as Leban- 
on : that C hrist's name shall endure for ever, and a seed 
shall r.erve him to all generations ; and that the gates of 
hell shall never prevail against his church, since he is both 
the foundation and chief corner-stone, and will be with 
iier to the end.*' But if their sorrow be about the few- 
ness of them that seem to be saved, or that follow Christ, 
then the word of comfort is, " The election shall obtain, 
whoever be blinded," so that a great multitude of all na- 
tions, tongues, and languages, shall compose the general 
assembly and church of the first-born. — If they are under 
gloomy shadows by divine hidings, yet then hear the pro- 
raise, '' At evening-time it shall be light : AYho among 
you that fear the Lord walks in darkness, and hath no 
light, let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon 
his God : To you that fear his name shall the Son of right- 
eousness arise with healing in his wings, and in the light 
of thy countenance shall they walk on for ever." To v 
which promises the response of faith is, " IThen I sit in ^ 
darkness, the Lord will be a light unto me, for he shall 
bring me forth to the light, and I shall behold his righte- 
ousness." If they are disquieted through trouble of mind, 
hear the kindly promise, " As one whom his mother com- 
forteth, so will I comfort you : Though thou hast been 
called as a woman forsaken, and grieved in spirit, and as 
a wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith thy God, 
yet, after the few moments of my displeasure are past, 
with everlasting kindness will I gather thee : And, as th& 
waters of Noah shall never return to cover the earih, so 
the covenant of my i)eace shall never depart from thee ; 
for though thou seem as one altogether affiicted with my 
waves, tossed with the temptests of my indignation, till 
thou groan under the anguish of a deserted soul, yet the 
day is at hand, Vvhen I will no more hide my face from 
you ; for though a wom.an may forget her sucking child. 
and have no compassion on the fruit of her womb, yet I 
cas never forget thee who art so dear to me." — Again, 



THE TRAVELLER. ST 

to those that are distressed for the divisions of Reuben, 
the promise speaks, " The watchmen shall see eye to eye, 
when the Lord bringeth again Zion. There shall be a 
day when the watchmen in Mount Ephraim shall cry, 
Arise ye, let us go up to Zion. Judah and Israel iihall 
be one stick in mine hand ; for there shall be one Lord 
over all the earth, and his name one." And the last 
prayer of the divine sufferer, which runs thus, " That 
they all may be one, as thou. Father, art in me, and I in 
thee, that they also may be one in us," shall be answer- 
ed in due time. 

To those who are called out to dangers, says the prom- 
ise, " Thou shall tread on the lion, and adder ; the ynung 
lion and dragon shalt thou trample under foot : When 
thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and 
through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee ; when 
thou walkest through the lire, thou shalt not be burnt, 
neither shall the flame kindle upon thee : If ye drink any 
deadly thing, ye shall not be hurt." Again, if calamities 
be national, even the time of Jacob's trouble, yet the 
promise is, *' He shall be saved out of it : This man shall 
be our peace, when the Assyrian cometh into our knd, 
and treadeth in our borders ; and. He will ordain peace 
for us, who makes peace." If enemies rise in m ar, then 
the promise is, that they shall be found liars ; and thcii.^h 
they be numerous, that one shall chase ^ thousand, and 
two put ten thousand to flight ; for no weapen formed 
against Zion shall prosper. But if they should be made 
prisoners, the promise reaches that situation also : " Ter- 
ily, I will cause the enemy to entreat thee Avell in the 
time of evil, and in the time of affliction ;" which was 
made good to Israel, who were pitied by them that led 
them captive. 

Ai-e they blind, dumb, deaf, maimed, deformed, feeble, 
and perishing? Then the promise is that the -^on of God, 
whose coming from heaven we look for, " shall change 
our vile bodies, that they may be fashioned like unto his 
glorious body, according to the working whereby he is 
able to subdue even all things unto himself," To the bar- 
ren he promises to give in his house, and within his walls, 
a place and a name better than of sons and of daughters. 
To the stranger he promises to be a shield. But perhaps 
they are not only strangers for a little time, but outcast^ 



bo THE TJIAVELLIIK. 

for a long time ; then " the Lford gathereth the outcasts 
of Israel, and will say to the north, Give up, and to the 
south, Keep not back." But they perhaps, have been 
long expecting the performance of the promise, and pray- 
ing for some blessing that has not been bestowed ; well, 
but says the promise, " The needy shall not always be 
forgotten, the expectation of the poor shall not perish 
for ever. He will fulfil the desire of them that fear him, 
lie will hear their cry, and save them. " But they may 
be exposed to the cunning plots of designing men ; true, 
say the sacred oracles, " The wicked plotteth against the. 
just, and gnasheth upon him with his teeth : but the Lord 
shall laugh at him," in way of derision, to see him so bent 
to undermine another, whose more terrible doom is at 
hand, even a day coming that shall pluck him out root 
and branch, while the righteous shall be an everlasting 
foundation. But one may be fatherless, and such is ready 
to suffer injury at every hand : But, says the promise, 
*' God is a Father to the fatherless, and the widow's 
Judge in his holy habitation :" And so says he, " Leave 
thy fatherless children." — Ah 1 Lord, may the dying pa- 
rent say, I must leave them : Well, but, says God, " I 
will preserve them alive :" that is, provide for them, and 
bring them up like a kindly tutor, and what more couldst 
thou do though still with them ? Then, may the sympa- 
thizing husband say. And what shall this thy handmaid 
do ? *' Let thy widow trust in me," and she shall not be 
ashamed of her hope ; I will be to her as the most tender 
husband. 

Again, the comforting word to such as are living among 
the ungodly, and chained to bad company, is^ " The Lord 
knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptation," as 
he did Lot in a like situation. — But their work allotted 
them may be arduous and difficult ; then the promise is, 
*' I will be with thy mouth ; thou shalt not be afraid of 
their faces, for I am with thee to deliver thee ; the tongue 
of the stammerer shall speak plainly, and the heart of the 
rash shall understand wisdom ; I will direct their work in 
truth : And as his day is, so shall his strength be." — But 
they may be solitary, their dearest friends, and nearest 
relations, being removed by death ; then, saith the prom- 
ise, " God sett jth the solitary in families, and bringeth 
out those that are bound witli chains," — But they maj" 



THE TRAVELLEK. 89 

he troubled to think how they shall hold on through the 
wide, the waste, the howling wilderness ; how they shall 
make the steep ascent to the hill of God; then the prom- 
ise is, " My presence shall go with thee, and I will give 
thee rest : Thou shalt hear a voice behind thee, saying, 
This is the way walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right 
hand, and when ye turn to the left : They shall mount up 
with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, 
they shall walk and not faint : He that is feeble among 
them, at that day shall be as David, and the house of Da- 
vid, shall be as God, as the angel of the Lord.'* — But 
they may have their daily difficulties how to support their 
needy families ; well, the promise also speaks to that con- 
dition : ** They that fear the Lord shall not want any 
good thing : Behold the eye of the Lord is upon them 
that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy, to de- 
liver their soul from death, and keep them alive in fam- 
ine: Bread shall be given thee, and thy water shall be 
sure : Therefore, I say, take no thought for your life what 
ye shall eat, neither for the body what ye shall put on ; 
the life is more than meat, and the body is more than rai- 
ment ; consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap ; 
can ye be in a worse condition ? Nor have they store or 
barn to lay up what they might spare in the plenty of 
harvest, yet God feedeth them all the year round. How 
much better are ye than the fowls of heaven ; and think 
ye that ye shall fare so much worse than they at the hand 
of your heavenly Father ? And as for clothing, consid- 
er the lilies how they grow, they neither toil nor spin, 
yet surpass Solomon in all his glory. If God then so 
clothe the grass of the field, which so quickly perishes 
away, how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little 
faith ! Why fearful about these things, when it is your 
Father's good pleasure, O little flock ! to give you the 
kingdom ? Think not anxiously on your own necessities, 
because your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need 
of these things. — But they may be distressed with daily 
afflictions, and continued chastisements ; well, the prom- 
ise speaks a good word to dissipate that pain : " Many 
are the fifflictions of the righteous, but the Lord deliver- 
eth him out of them all.'' — But perhaps old age advan- 
cing, with all its train of infirmities, may trouble them ; 
then the promise proqlainE^s the divine protection : " Eyen 



©0 'fHE TKAVELLUl. 

to your oM age I am he, and to your hoar hair? will I 
carry you. And thou sfhalt pass into the land of glory in 
that beautiful maturity, as a shock of corn cometh in, in 
3iis season." But they may be under bondage through 
fear of death, and even tremble to take the dark step into 
the unseen world ; then the promise speaks comfort in the 
veiy last extremity : " O death ! I will be thy plague ; O 
grave ! I will be thy destruction :" So that they may 
break out into The same raptures, that saints view ing the 
came change, sweetened by the same promise^ have done 
of old, " O death I where is thy sting ? O grave I vrhere 
Is thy victoiy ? This God is our God, and will be our 
guide even unto death : Yea, though I walk through the 
valley and shadow of death, yet will I fear no evil, for 
thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort 



MEDITATION IX. 

The Sacred Insurance, 

Horndean, April SO, 1758. 

Men that go to sea, conscious of their danger, often- 
times insure ; that so, though their ships -should be WTeck- 
ed, their value may be secured to them. I am also going 
to sea, and carry a cargo with me more precious than all 
the treasures of the Indies, even mine immortal soul, 
which is also in danger of perishing upon the waters of J 
xice and profanity. How then shall my all be safe amidst 
so man)' dangers ; amidst the corruption of nature and 
the seeds of sin within, and bad example, base advice, 
bold attacks, and baneful snares without, while perhaps 
there is riot one to counsel me aright, to strengthen my 
hand in God. and thereby comfort me? Blessed be the 
God of all consolation, that in this deplorable situation I 
need not despond. The insurance-office of heaven is wil- 
ling to contract with me on the most honourable, and 
i^ost advantageous terms for my soul ; and holds forth to 
1^ the stedfast promise of Ms faithfulness, *^ That his 



TH.B TRAVELLER. 91 

gi'diCG shall be sufficient for me, because his strength is 
made perfect in weakness, and that he will not suffer me 
to be tempted above ineasure, but will with the tempta- 
tion make a way to escape." 

Then, Lord, my humble request is. That I may never 
sin against thy love and grace, nor cause thee to hide thy 
countenance by my untender walk : — That sin may con- 
tinue, whatever shape it may put on, as ugly and abomi- 
nable to me as ever I thought it, yea, the more so the 
more I am entangled with it ; as I would more lothe the 
serpent twisting round my legs, than crawling ten yards 
distant from me on the ground : — That I may ever be 
gi'ieved with the sins of others, and that, in appearing 
against sin, I may not fear the face of man : — That the 
more all things would draw me from thee, I may draw^ 
the nearer to thee, and keep the closer by thee : — That 
I may never l3e ashamed of religion, or of thee: — That I 
may remember the concerns of thy glory as far as in me 
lies, and pray for the reviving of religion, and prosperity 
of Zion: — That I may study, since I cannot have the oi-" 
dinances of God in public, to enjoy the God of ordinan- 
ees in private : — That I may never be cast down for tem- 
poral misfortunes, but own the hand of God in all ; and, 
like the honey-bee, suck sweetness to my soul, from that 
same providence which affords rancour and disquiet to the 
unsubmissive mind : — That in the midst of all, I may 
bear my latter end in my mind, and never forget the 
v\- orld to come : — That I may depend on nothing in my- 
self, but be always strong in the grace and strength that 
is in Christ Jesus : — That every Sabbath may be sweet to 
my soul, in spite of all obstruction ; and that an opportu- 
nity may be afforded to me, to read that word which I 
should esteem more than my necessary food. O grant me 
my request I for, as of old, thou didst suffer none to do 
thy chosen ones harm, yea, for the sake of thy prophets 
didst reprove mighty kings, so now, if I be among the 
number of thy people, thou canst, who hast the hearts of 
all men in thy hand, not only restrain, but reprove the 
bold offender, and keep me safe in tlie midst of danger ; 
and, as a sign of my gratitude for thy great goodness, not 
a little, but all I am, have, or can do, shall, all my lifetime., 
be devoted to the advancement of thy glory, and hon- 
our of thy name. 



q<9 



THE TRATELLER. 



MEDITATION X, 

On Pumping the Ship* 

Spithead, May 11 , 1758. 

No ship can be so well caulked, but she will draw wa- 
ter, more or less, though where or how we scarce can 
tell ; and though it is only by the assistance of the wate- 
ry element we sail from shore to shore, yet, if too much 
water were let in on us, it would sink us to the bottom of 
the mountains, and bury us amidst unfathomable waves : 
Even so, though a moderate portion of the good things 
of this life be highly useful to us through the various sta- 
ges thereof, yet, when the cares of this life, carnal plea- 
sures, and a desire after riches, break in on our souls like 
mighty billows, we bid fair to be drowned in destruction 
and perdition. Again, on such an ocean of waters, and 
when water also swells within us, what a wonder that we 
are not lost ! So, in such a world of wickedness (witness 
the wretches around me) and when corruption so swells ■ 
within, what a miracle of mercy that the soul is not lost 
for ever ! 

Whatever way the water comes into the ship, it cannot 
be sent out the same way, but must be pumped out with 
care and toil ; even so, though death and sin came in by 
mere man, yet life and salvation must be brought in by 
him who is both God and man in one. And as this bilge- 
water comes not from a lave of the surging waves, or 
breaking billows, but as it were, springs up within the 
vessel, and thus is both dangerous and disagreeable ; just 
so, though we keep from scandalous outbreakings, yet if 
we indulge ourselves in secret sin, we both defile and de- 
stroy the inner man. The faster the ship makes water, ^ 
the more we ply the pump ; so the more that sin attacks, 
and is likely to prevail, the more I am to watch and pray 
against it ; and prayer is the Christian's chain pump, 
which must be employed, else the soul w^ould perish. 
Lastly, as the mariner must pump again and again, and 
never think his labour at an end, while his ship is at sea, 
so I must watch against sin, keep myself from mine ini- 
quity, attend well to the state of my soul, and implore 



THE TRAVELIEE. 9B^ 

the inhabitation of the Biviiie Spirit, till my vessel ar- 
rive at the harbour of eternal rest. 



MEDITATION XI. 

On the Anchors of the Ship, 

Spithtad, May i,'175S. 

Mex unacquainted with navigation, would think that 
the cables to Avhich the anchors are appended were fasten- 
ed to some part above deck ; but it is not so ; they come 
from the very inmost part of the ship, and are as it were 
its bowels winding out. Even so, faith, which is the an- 
chor of the soul, is no external form, or supeiiicial act, 
but the very soul, in all her faculties, going out and fas- 
tening on Christ. 

And, as it is enough to the ship that she rides safe at her 
moorings, though her anchors are not exposed to every 
eye, but hid beneath an heap of waters, and only knowa 
by their effects, that she keeps by her station, in spite of 
winds and waves, of tides and storms : just so, it is 
enough that the anchor of the soul be fixed within the 
vail, though concealed from vulgar view ;'it will be known 
by its sweet ejects. The soul shall abound in fruits of 
righteousness, shall iind a sweet tranquillity within, shall 
be stable like Mount Zion, while the wicked shall be tosn 
sed like a rolling thing before the whirlwind. 

Sometimes a ship may drive, when neither the anchor 
is weighed, nor the cable cut or slipt ; but then it is ow- 
ing to the anchor losing its hold ; but this is remedied by 
letting out cable, or dropping the anchor anew : Just so, 
when the soul loses its hold of Christ and heavenly things, 
it is no wonder that it be driven hither and thither, 
by storms and tempests, among rocks and quick-sands ; 
nor is there any other way of bringing the soul to rest 
and composure, but by acting faith more strongly on 
Christ, and casting her anchor anew within the vail. 

It would be ridiculous for the shipmaster to hoist his 
gailB before he weigh his anchors ; but the Christian cwi\ 



94 THE, TSAVELLER. 

©ever steer safely through the course of life, but with his 
anchor fixed within the vail ; then, if he is thus heavenly 
w^ise, he shall weather every storm, and make the haven, 
the long w^ished for haven, at last. 

Even the ship at anchor is never altogether free from 
motion in the greatest calm, and, at sometimes will roll 
in 5uch a manner as to make some of the ship's company 
sick, and others believe that the anchor has lost his hold, 
and that all is in danger : Even so, the saints, though se- 
cured against utter ruin, may have many changes, may 
be much tossed with adversities, and various afflictions, 
and may have fears without and fightings within. 

But, how much wiser is the mariner in a storm, than 
the children of wisdom themselves 1 Tlie fiercer the tem- 
pest, and the greater the danger, they cast out the more 
anchors. But the saints, in times of greatest trouble, 
instead of acting the strongest faith, are apt to cry out, 
* Lost, and undone !' and so cut their cables, and cast loose 
their anchors ; and thus, and that always in a night of 
sorrow and anguish, are tossed on the rough sea of des- 
pondency and doubt, for a time. Faith, however, has 
this advantage above all the cables ever made, and all the 
anchors ever fabricated, that it secures in spite of fiercest 
storms, and keeps safe in the midst of imminent dangers, 
relying more or less on him who cannot fail, even when 
providence contradicts the promise. 

Now, as no ship goes to sea without her cables and an- 
chors, though of no use till she come again near the land ; 
so I should do every thing in faith ; for without faith it 
is impossible to please God, or come to an anchor in the 
karbor of glory. 



MF.DITATION XII. 

The Sails. 

Spiihead,May5,t'J5^. 

Anchors are servants to us in the harbor, but are en- 
tirely useless at sea, where another kind of tackling is ab* 



THE TUAVELLEK. 95 

soluteiy necessary, to wit, the expansive sails that spread 
their friendly wings, and catch the favoring gales, to for« 
ward us in our intended voyage. 

Even so, the spiritual seamen must to their anchors of 
faith, add virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; and to 
knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, patience ; 
and to patience, godliness ; and to godliness, brotherly 
kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity : These are 
the sails that bid fair for a prosperous voyage, and bring 
us daily nearer to the celestial land. 

The Holy Spirit breathing on the public ordinances, 
and the more private duties of Christianity, is like a fair 
wind, and a brisk gale on a full spread sail, which an- 
swers the highest expectation of the homeward bound 
ship. No shipmaster could ever expect, under his bare 
poles, to make the desired haven, though favored with a 
very fresh gale. If he did not both unfurl and stretch 
his sails in the best direction for the wind, he would look 
more like a madman than a mariner. So he that attendi 
on no ordinances, attempts the performance of no duty, 
reads not the scriptures of truth, and prays not to the 
God of all grace, is not in the way of the heavenly gale 
that Avafts the saints to glory. 

Again, the sails, fore and aft, may all be unfurled, by 
a skilful hand, and spread out to the wind, and yet the 
ship for a time make little way, because scarcely favour- 
ed with a breath of wind. So the influences of the Spi- 
rit may be restrained for a time, and the saints, even in 
the use of every mean, may make but little progress in 
their Christian course. But as the experienced seamen, 
in such a case, crowds on all his sails, adds a top-gallant 
sail, and appends studding sails; so we, with the spouse, 
should rouse up ourselves, rise from our sloth, ask anx- 
iously after him, be earnest and importunate in every du- 
ty, till we find him whom our soul loveth. 

Nothing can be a more] pleasant sight at sea than a 
fleet of ships, richly laden, with a moderate gale, steer- 
ing a straight course to the port at which they have long 
been expected, and which they have long desired to see. 
But a company of saints travelling Zionwards, rich in 
heavenly graces,fand the hopes of eternal glory ; and un- 
der the influences of the Holy Ghost, ^steering a straight 
coarse to the churchbf^the^tirst-born, where they have 



^«> THE TRATELLEB. 

been long expected by the souls under the altar, and 
which they have long desired to see, is a more noble 
^ight. 

Finally, as the ship never takes in her sails till arrived 
at her desired haven, so we should be always on our guard, 
keep every grace in vigour, never be weary in well do- 
ing, but press toward the mark for the prize of the high 
calling of God in Christ Jesus, till we make the haven of 
bliss, the harbour of glory. 



MEDITATION XIU. 

G/i the Compass mid Helm. 

Spiihead, May 6, 1T5S. 

Ay CHOBs and sails are both useful ; but without some- 
thing more, the mariner must steer an unsteady course, 
and traverse the ocean to little purpose, not knomn|; 
where he is, nor whither he goes. Tliese handmaids of 
navigation are, the compass, the quadrant, and the helm. . 
Without the compass, he durst never venture from the 
coast, because he would sail he knows not whither ; with- 
out the quadrant, he must mistake his latitude ; and with- 
out his helm, he might be driven whither he would not. 
Even so all these in. a spiritual sense are absolutely ne- 
cessary to every one who would have a safe passage to 
the other world. Therefore, seeing I am on a long, but 
interesting voyage to eternity, much care should be taken 
what course I steer, since one point v\'rong, so to speak, 
instead of landing me safe in glory, will run me among- 
the rocks of irretrievable ruin. Did not they seem to 
bid fair for a prosperous voyage, and for making the very 
harbour, who could boast to Christ himself, *' Lord, Lord, 
have we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name 
cast out devils, and done many wonderful works ?" and *" 
yet he professes to them that he never knew them. 

Now, I must direct the course of my life, and the end 
of my actions, by the sacred compass of divine revelation. 
This should be a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path ; 
my counsellor in all difficulties, and my song in the house 
M my pilgrimage ; yea, my daily and delicious food. 



THE TRAVELLER. 9T 

Kore I must observe, that if the most skilful pilot can- 
not, without the compass, sail from England to the In- 
dies ; so tlie heathen, for all the blaze of natural parts, 
for all their refined manners, or excellent morals, yet 
wanting the word of God, the volume of inspiration, can 
never reach the shore of happiness ; for " how shall they 
believe in him of whom they have not heard ! and how 
shall they hear without a preacher ? and how shall they 
preach except they be sent ?" 

Again, like the spiritual mariner, I should take my alti- 
tude, and see what length I have run, what progress I 
have made in my course heavenward. Now, this is 
known by the height of the Sun of righteousness in my 
sky. If he enlighten the whole inner man, shine into 
my heart, irradiate every power of mind, cover me with 
his healing beams, fill ray ravished eye, engage my at- 
tention, and excite me daily to adore and bask beneath 
my iJ^avionr's gracious rays, surely I am w^ell on to the 
meridian, well on to the laiid of rest. 

Again, I should steer the helm by the compass of divine 
truth, guard against running out of my latitude, but be 
attentive to my life according to thy word, and have a 
zeal according to knowledge. Thus shall I at last under 
a full sail, in a triumphant manner, have an abundant en- 
trance ministered to me into the kingdom of my Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ. 



MEDITATION XIV. 

Provisions and Stores. 

X HE ship must not only be well supplied with every 
ihini^ necessary for navigation, but with food for the sea- 
men on their voyage. If they have not laid in both 
».': fad and water, they shall soon be in a starving condi- 
tion, reduced to eat one another, or die, and never see 
the country for which they set out. Just so, if we do 
not live on a crucified Jesus, if he be not the food of our 
•^onls, and in us the hope of glory : li we cannot make a 
spiiilual meal, a spiritual feast on the promises, we shall 
! e consunicd of famine, and perish in our passage. 

Again, as this day's-allcwance vriil not support u« to* 



95 THE TRAVELLED- 

morrow, so it is not by grace received that we must pur- 
sue our Christian journey; for we must be strong only in' 
the grace that is in Christ Jesus, and daily receive out of | 
his fulness. I 

Further, the provision which we carry to sea must be 
prepared in another manner than what is used at land, 
otherwise it will corrupt, and become altogether useless. 
Even so, a form of godliness, and counterfeit graces, a 
cradle-faith, and a family-piety, will not support us in I 
our passage to the world of spirits. ' 

Besides, in a scarcity of provisions, the vermin, rats to 
wit, will attempt to gnaw the flesh of the poor sailors. 
Even so, when grace is languid or withheld, what lusts 
prey on the vitals of the soult O, then, for a full meal o* 
the bread of life, that I may be safe from sin and satan, 
earth and hell ! 

Our provisions, when long at sea, are apt to breed mag- 
gots, worms, and insects ; yet, if wholesome when put 
aboard, will support us till we accomplish our voyage. 
So, it is no wonder though, amidst so many snares, so 
many temptations, and in such a variety of circumstances 
and occurrences, the graces necessary to the Christian life, 
be more or less languid at times, and sometimes appear so 
much disposed to putrefaction, that spiritual death is 
dreaded to be at hand ; but, if true grace be first implant- 
ed, the Christian shall not perish by the way, but have 
the bread and water of life bestowed upon him, till he 
come to the banquet above. 

Moreover, if a supply of provisions, suitable to the 
length of the voyage, or of the time designed to be at sea, 
is neglected, a scarcity will ensue, that will ruin the ship, 
l^o, how sad to sail through life, with nothing but vanity 
and mind to feed on 1 The soul must starve all his life-long, 
and die at last, of spiritual famine, the most terrible of all 
deaths. A ship, indeed, short of provisions, may meet ano- 
ther at sea,and obtain a liberal supply ; but this is not the 
case with a graceless soul ; no other can help, none can 
spare of his own stores to supply others. 

jN^o private person, yea, nothing less than majesty, 
could afford so many persons as are in the navy, this am- 
ple provision. So, neither from saints nor angels is the 
poor sinner to expect righteousness or grace ; all are 
beggars or bankrupts theraseives, and so can give no ran- 



THE TRAVELLER. S9 

soni hr their brother's soul. But how rich the King of 
heaven I that gives both grace and glory to his angels 
and saints, and yet remains an overflowing ocean of good- 
ness ! 

In a long voyage, it may be sometimes necessary to put 
the whole ship's company on short allowance, but death 
never follows this. So, the saints, in their way heaven- 
ward, may find themselves for a time deprived of public 
ordinances, which should nourish the soul (it is our sin, 
without urgent causes, to deprive ourselves of them) yea, 
may find the communications of grace more sparingly be- 
stowed, or, to their sense, for a season withheld ; but still 
grace in the soul, and the soul itself, shall by faith be kept 
alive, till they land in glory, where they shall feast on the 
plentitude of all divine goodness. 

Again, we must not only have the ship tlioroughly 
equipped, but we must have spare anchors, spare sails, and 
spare masts ; else in a storm, when we may be driven 
from our anchors, or at sea, when our sails may be blown 
to pieces, and our masts brought by the board, we must 
remain at the mercy of wind and wave, and perish in our 
distress. So, it is proper that every Christian lay up in 
his mind the promises, the word on which God has caused 
him to hope ; that in the day of darkness and tempest, 
when like to sink in the mighty waves, he may have re- 
eourse to them, as holding forth an unchangeable love, 
and call to mind his past experience of divine goodness ; 
like the psalmist, " I will remember thee from the land of 
Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar." 
Thus shall he weather out the storm, and have a safe pas- 
sage to the land of promise. 



MEDITATION XV. 

Ballast. 

Spithead, May 8, 1758. 
Notwithstanding all this nice apparatus, and royal 
provision made for the vessel designed for foreign climes, 
there is one thing absolutely necessary for her safety in 
the main ocean, among roaring winds, and that is a due 
weight of ballast. To see such a quantity of gravel, sand, 
stones, pegs of iron, &c. thrown into the ships hold, would 



100 THE illAVELLER. 

make an ignorant person apt to conclude, that it must sink 
the ship, and not conduce to her safety ; but, if she were 
not sunk to a proper depth, she would buoy up on the sur- 
face of the water, and be overset by every gale that 
blows. Just so, a pressure of affliction is absolutely ne- 
cessary for the saint in his passage heavenward. If every 
thing went prosperously on, spiritual pride might buoy 
4ip the soul, and expose her to be overset by every wind 
of temptation ; and such w inds the people of God may 
expect below. Indeed, there are causes, manifold causes 
cf humility cleaving to the best ; but, before God suffers 
his saints to be exalted above measure, even through the 
manifestation of the divine favour, he will let loose the 
messenger of satau to buffet them, as he dealt with Paul 
of old. 

As the ship sails more safely thus ballasted, though it 
has a greater depth of water to cut through ; so it is safer 
for the soul to be kept in a due poise of humility and low- 
ness of mind, than to float on the surface, and catch every 
gale. 

Again, it may be necessary sometimes to shift the bal- 
last fore or aft, as the ship gc^s more or less upright, to 
alter her position. Even so, according to our necessity, 
our afflictions may be removed from one thing, and laid 
upon another that is dear to us. We may suffer in our 
estate, or good name; trouble, disease, or death, may be 
laid on our children, or the wife of our bosom ; and we 
may be afflicted in our bodies, or in our minds, as Infinite 
Wisdom sees meet ; which should silence us under all. 

Again, the food that we eat, and the water that we 
<Irink, is part of the ballast, and keeps us deep in the water. 
Just so, our best comforts, at least what we thought best, 
are often made bitter w ith some cross. Thus, have not 
some husbands sharp sorrow from her that lieth in their 
bosom? Have not some parents much vexation from 
those whom they have swaddled, and brought up ? There- 
fore, to expect little from the creature, and all from God, 
is the way never to be disappointed, but always at rest. 

Finally, here is the crowning comfort, that, as the bal- 
last is turned out, when the ship goes into dock, so 
•when I arrive at my much desired haven, affliction shall 
no more have place in me ; then shall I obtain joy and 
gladnesp. and sorrow and sighing shall for ever tlee auay. 



THE TKAVEXLE^. 10*1 

MEDITATION XVI. 

7%e more we see of sin, the more we should hate sin* 

When Israel was in their own land, they were mad on 
idolatry ; but, when forced to sacrifice at Babylon to idols 
which they knew not, they got such a surfeit of that sin, 
that they loathed it ever after. How, then, should I 
henceforth hate sin, when I see how naked it makes the 
soul, how it debases even unto hell, how the longer the 
captive lies in chains, the fetters grow stronger, and the 
captive weaker; how it kindles hell, scatters brimstone 
over the tabernacle, makes the language of the pit spue 
from the tongue, and makes restless in the pursuit of sin ; 
in a word, contemns divine things, proclaims rebellion 
against heaven, and wages war against God! 



MEDITATION XYII. 

. Knowing a sin to be committed, 

Spithead, May 15, 1T58. 

In vain, O foolish man I in vain thou hidest thyself, 
for " there is no darkness nor shadow of death where 
the workers of iniquity may hide themselves." Hast 
thou chosen the gloom of night? Well, but night is to 
God as day, and darkness as the light. Thou didst pre- 
meditate the perpetration of thy wickedness, and God is 
preparing the punishment of thy crimes. 

Lord I thy judgments are a great deep, and thy justice 
shall shine in the punishment of sinners, who shall conr 
fess the equity of thy burning indignation. Thus, they 
who unweariedly blaspheme in pastime and in sport, shall 
eternally blaspheme in agony and pain. Thus, the 
unclean wretch, who burns in impure desires, and satis* 
lies his lusts in an unlawful way, shall be delivered to the 
flames, where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not 
quenched. He v/ho will not hearken to God's reproof, ir^ 
i2 



m\ 



102 THE TRAVJELLEK. 

the time of liislong-sufFerliig, shall hear when vengeaiicje 
shall be his garment, and his fury shall uphold hhn. Thug, 
the companions of sin shall be the companions of suffer- 
ing, being bound in bundles to be burnt together. Thus, 
the adulterers, who know no shame, shall be ashamed, 
and co%^ered with confusion in that day. And such as 
now expose their wickedness to some, with impunity, 
shall be exposed befoi;e the great congregation, and shall 
not be able to hold up their face before the spotless 
throne. 

Then thou, O sinner 1 shalt be there, and I shall be 
there. Here I know thy sin, and, if mercy prevent not 
now, there 1 shall see thy punishment. How shalt thou 
wish this day, this night, out of the number of tlie day? 
of thy years, and not added to thy months I How wilt 
thou wish darkness to cover it, and a cloud of oblivion to 
dwell upon it ! How wilt thou curse it, v.hen ready to 
raise up thine everlastmg mourning 1 When thou v/ast a 
child, thou couldst not commit this wickedness, and when 
thou art a man, thou shouidst not; therefore, how^ shalt 
thou curse thy manhood, and bewail thy riper years ; yea, 
wish that thou hadst been an untimely -birth, an infant 
that never saw the sun ! Thy sin is marked in my mourn- 
ful meditation, in thy conscience which is ^t work se- 
cretly, and in the omniscience of thy tremendous Judge, 
There will be no want of proof against thee in the day 
of thy cause ; the companion of thy wickedness shall 
be present, I shall be present, conscience shall be pre- 
sent, when thou appearest before thy Judge, who, be- 
ing every where present, is the greatest witness of all. 
There will be no casting uf witnesses there; for no false 
witness can appear at that tribunal, yea, thou thyself 
shalt never presume to plead not guilli/. As sure as thou 
hast committed this sin, shall these events take place ! 
And yet, O man ! thou art merry in the midst of all thy 
misery, and observest not the impending thunders that are 
about to break on thy devoted head. Sin is that poison 
that makes a man go laughing to death, and dancing to 
destruction. Then, let my soul weep in secret places for 
those that cannot pity themselves, nor shew compassion 
an their own souls, but live in a dream, die in darkness. 
and pl'jn^e into despair. 



IHi: TIIATELLER. lOS 

MEDITATIOIS XYin. 

A 3Ian of War. 

May 16, 1758. 

There is a great difference between a trading ship 
and a man of war. The one goes out for private gain, 
and the other for the public good. Tliai neither intends 
to attack, nor is prepared to resist, if attacked in her 
voyage ; but this spreads the sails, and sweeps the sea, 
to find and fight the foe ; and, therefore, carries along 
with her weapons of every kind, and instruments of 
death. 

Even so, the Christian has another course of life to lead 
than the worldling, even while sojourning in the world. 
And, as the ship of war must not traffic from port to port.> 
having more noble things in view, life and lil^crty to de- 
fend, and enemies to subdue ; so, '' no man that wareth, 
entangleth himself with the affairs of this life, that he 
may please him who hath chosen himto be a soldier." 

We are never out of danger, while at sea ; for, though 
it be a time of peace, we may be overtaken with a tem- 
pest, wrecked on a rock, or sit down on a sand-bank : 
But, in these disquieted times, we may be shattered by 
an engagement, sunk by the foe, or blown up by acci- 
dent ; or, should we escape all these, we may have a mu- 
tiny within. Just so, whatever be the situation of the 
sons of men, still the children of grace have a war to 
maintain ; not only a sea full of stoi*ms to struggle 
through, but a field of foes to fight through. It is through 
fire and water, through severe trials, and heavy afflictions, 
that all spiritual champions have to force their way. Sa- 
tan knows well how to act ; when faith would look to the 
bright side of every event, satan turns up the black side, 
to drive the soul to despair; and, on the other hand, 
when grace looks to the blackness of sin, he turns up the 
beautiful side of pleasure. In adversity, I am ready to 
dash against the rocks of discontent; and, in prosperity, 
to fall among the quicksands of worldly cares and tem- 
T)oral concerns. We have foes on every hand to fight. 



104 THE TRAVELLER, 

temptations from every quarter to resist, all the powers 
of darkness, all the principalities of the pit, to combat 
with ; nor is peace to be expected while an enemy is on 
the field ; neither must we lay aside our armour, the 
weapons of our w^arfare, till we lay down the body of 
death. 

Again, though for a time we have no foe to affright us» 
no tempest to trouble us, no rock to endanger us, yet a 
mutiny may rise within, than which nothing can be more 
terrible ; and it is ahvays the dregs of the crew that are 
chiefly concerned in it, while the officers are sure either 
to be cut off, or confined. Just so, there may be a tumult 
raised in the soul, a war in the very mind, when rascally 
corruptions, headed by unbelief, claim the command ; 
when graces, faith, love, patience, resignation, spirituali- 
ty, kc. are wounded, and put under confinement : Thus, 
one complained of old, " I see another law in my mem- 
bers, waring against the law of my mind, and bringing 
me into captivity to the law of sin, which is in my mem- 
bers."' Now, as no scene can be more melancholy than 
a mutiny, till it be suppressed, and order restored ; so no- 
thing can be more melancholy than a soul sufiering all the 
calamities of a war within, corruption rampant, and 
grace bleeding. 

But, how happy is the ship, when peace is restored, 
and the mutineers secured in irons, and what a strict eye 
is kept on them during the voyage ! So it is with the 
soul; what joy, what exultation and triumph, prevail, 
when sin is subdued, and the love of God, and peace of 
conscience, are shed abroad in the heart by tlie Holy 
Ghost! 

This is known, that when thennutineers get the ascen- 
dance, and compel the rest of the ship's company to join 
them, they turn pirates, are resolute in battle, bloody in 
their conquests, desperate in all attacks, a terror to, and 
hated of every nation. Even so, he that sets out v/ith 
a fair profession of religion, and on the v/ay to heaven, 
but turns a black apostate, spues out malice against the 
ways of God, becomes the bitterest of all enemies, the 
most profligate of all offenders, and is hated of saint and 
sinner. 

When a mutiny takes place, it is sometimes requisite 
fdv the safety of the ship, and for the honour of govern- 



THE TRAVELLER. 105 

nient, to cut off some otlierwise very useful hands. Just 
'so, we are to cut off lusts, though dear as our right eye, 
or useful as our right hand, that we perish not for ever. 

-Again, our being jn'ovided with what enables us to de- 
fend ourselves, and tojdistress our foes, lias sometimes been 
the ruin of ships, while the fatal spark makes a terrible 
explosion, tears the vessel to pieces, and scatters the life- 
less crew on the deep. So the best of blessings, the choi- 
cest privileges, when not improved, entail the bitterest of 
curses.' Thus Judas, who sat in his divine master's pre- 
sence, heard his sermons, and witnessed his miracles, not 
improving these golden opportunities, turned traitor and 
hanged himself, in the anguish of despair. And Caper- 
naum, that in privileges was exalted to heaven, is threa- 
tened to be thrust down to hell. 

When war is over, peace proclaimed, ships on foreign 
stations called home, prize-money received, ships paid off, 
and laid up, and the crews discharged, and set at liberty ; 
how is all mirth and jocundity, festivity and joy I But, 
what tongue can tell the transports, the joy, the rapture, 
and delight, which the Christian shall feel when his war- 
fare is finished, and he translated to the mansions of glory, 
to the presence of God I 

Some poor creatures, who, though weary of the war, 
yet not knowing how to support themselves, or where to 
go after discharged from the ship, would be content to 
continue still in the service. And this reminds me of 
some saints, who, not being free of doubts with respect to 
their state in a future Avorld, notwithstanding all their 
toils in life, and struggles against sin, cling to life, and 
startle at the thoughts of death. 

But, there are some provident persons who have saved 
a little in the course of the war ; and some so happy as 
to get on the half pay list, or obtain a pension from their 
prince : These cheerfully retire to live on their money, 
repeat their dangers, recount their conquests, and com- 
mend their king. Just so, the souls that are enriched by 
the King eternal, and blessed Vlfllh the full assurance of 
celestial felicity, go triumphant, at the hour of death, to 
dAvell in the courts of God, on the treasures of glory, 
through an endlegg evermore. 



106 THE TKAVELLEK. 

MEDITATION XIX, 

The differ eiKt between the righteous and the guilt}/. 
Lying off Normandy^ June 14, 1T58. 

Though with respect to the outward man, there is na 
diflference, as one Creator has fashioned them both alike 
in the womb ; yet, with respect to the inner man, there 
is an amazing disshnilitude. In the darkest night, there 
are some rays of light ; but, in these sons of vice, there ; 
is not the least vestige of holiness. Yea, that modesty, j 
which one would think was inseparable from human na- 
ture, they have eradicated by a long practice of sinning. 
They seem to have stabbed their conscience, bound it 
Land and foot, and carried it forth to be buried, like a 
dead corps, in tJie deep dug grave of oblivion, from 
whence it shall come forth upon them in a terrible resur- 
rection. 

What a wide difference, then, between the shining ex- 
amples of piety, and the sons of profanity ? The affec- 
tions of the one are refined, and their desires exalted ; 
but the inclinations of the other are corrupt, and their 
desires grovelling. Sin has but a tottering standing, and 
a momentary stay in those ; but has fixed his throne, and 
taken up his eternal residence (if grace prevent not) in. 
these. In the one, grace and sin struggle for sovareignty ; 
in the other sin domineers, and there is no disturbance. 
The one is wise for a world to come, the other minds not 
that there is a future state. The discourse of the one is 
always seasoned with salt ; of the other, insipid and vain. 
The one has his hope fixed in God, the other has no fear 
of God before his eyes. Those use the world without 
abusing it ; but these, in using the world, abuse both 
themselves and it. The one confesses a God in his daily 
conversation, and rejoices with his whole heart in him ; 
the other says in his ]j^ctice, there is and wishes in his 
heart, there were no Tjod. The one adores the Creator 
above all, the other worships the creature more than the 
Creator, though he be God over all, blessed for ever. 
The one names the name of God, with profoundest reve- 
rence, and departs from iniquity ; the other profatnes it 



I 



.THE TRAVELLER. 10^ 

with impudent loquacity, and adds iniquity to sin. The 
one redeems common time, and sanctifies that which is sa- 
cred ; the other trifles away the one, and sins away the 
other. The one studies his duty in obedience to all, the 
other shakes himself loose of every law. This forgives 
his foes, that lays a snare for his friends. The one com- 
mits it to God to plead his cause, and avenge his wrong ; 
the other, fiery and tumultuous, threatens duels and death. 
The one loveth chastity in all things, the other wallows 
in uncleanness. The one injures himself rather than his 
neighbour ; the other, the whole world rather than him- 
self. The one is content with his condition, the other co- 
vets all the day long. The one is all glorious within, 
the heart of the other is like a cage full of unclean birds. 
The one walks at liberty in the w^ays of God, the other 
is the servant and slave of sin. In this, dwells the spirit 
of God ; in that, rule^ the god of this world. The one 
has his conversation in heaven ; the other, in hell. 

But, as there is a v/ide difference in their principles 
and practice, so in their privileges. The one is under the 
blessing of love, the other under the curse of the law. 
The one is a child of adoption, the other, the prey of 
the terrible one. He is faithful that hath promised feli* 
city to the saints, and threatened vengeance to the wick- 
ed. The OR8 is allowed with joy to draw water out of 
the wells of salvation, the other shall drink of the wrath 
of the Almighty. To the one pertain all the exceeding 
great and precious promises, to the other all the threat- 
ening? of God. " The righteous hath hope in his death, 
but the wicked is driven away in his wickedness." The 
one shall enter into the joy of his Lord, bat the anguish 
of his enemies shall prey on the other for ever. Heaven 
shall be the palace of those, hell the prison of these : 
And, while the one shall dwell through eternity with 
God, the other shall be driven away into everlasting 
darknes?. 

Thus, the righteous and wicked are separated in their 
life, and divided in their death; divided in their princi- 
ples and practices, in their choice and joys, in their medi- 
tations and privilege*, in their company and in their con- 
verse, in their fears and in their eTCp'^ntnttons, in their 
death, and threugk eternilv it!;el 



103 THE TRAVELLEK. 

Then, how much more excellent than his neighbour is 
the righteous ! and how are the sons of Zion comparable 
to fine gold I As only among them, of all the human 
race, I can expect to spend eternity, so only among 
them, to spend the remainder of my time, in every tie 
and relation, is all the happiness of society that I desire - 
below. 



MEDITATION XX. 

The judgment of swearers, according to equiti/. 

Lying off Nortr^ndy, June 15, 1758. 

• How justly will God, the rightt.> js Judge, measure the 
purport of their imprecations into the bosoms of these 
blasphemers 1 They swear by God^ and so they own the 
divinity they offend ; but, they profane the sacred name, 
and so offend the Deity they own. They damn the whole 
man, their soul, their blood, their eyes ; and every part, 
tiven the whole man, shall be tormented. They sow the 
wind, for there is neither pleasure nor profit in any sense 
in swearing ; and they shall reap the whirlv/ind, whose 
truth is disappointment, and pain. They sin in sport, 
but God hears in earnest, and will punish in zeal. They 
call on God profanely at every word, and God hears, and 
will answer them in wrath. They swear, and forget, but 
God has sworn that he will remember. That which they 
think adds beauty to their speech, and vigour to their 
words, shall indeed add anguish to their grief, and strength 
to their torments. Ihey are not weary in blaspheming, 
so as to cease from it, tlierefore tliey shall be weary in be- 
wailing themselves, but never cease. They choose to 
blaspheme through the v, liole of their time, and anguish 
sliall cause them to blaspheme through av»hoIe eternity. 
They despise the day of God's patience, but shall not 
escape the day of his judgment. What shall the blasphe- 
mer say, when" tossing on the ticry billows, shrieking un- 
der consummate despair. ' O miserable stale of intolera- 
ble tonnents, which I must endure i..*4jpw shall I spend 
Uiis eternity of pain 1 It was nothing to me in time to 



THE TRAVELLEB. 109 

}ijear others curse and blaspheme, and to join in the infer- 
nal dialect myself ; and now I am encircled v. ith uncea- 
sing blasphemies, from all the legions of fallen angels, 
from all the millions of miserable sinners, suffering under 
infinite vengeance ; and I mingle in the uproar, and join 
in the terrible tumult against the throne of God, although 
dreadfully tortured in my rebellion. T7ien, curses accent- 
ed eveiy sentence; now^ every sentence is one continued 
curse. I thought God was altogether such an one as jny- 
self, and that he would nev^er remember my oaths, which 
I never minded, nor call me to account for committing 
what I made no account of. Damn wie, damn me, was 
always on my tongue, and I am damned for ever! The 
oaths and curses which I sowed in time, are now sprung 
up into bitter bewailings, and eternal blasphemlngs. As 
I took pleasure in cursing, so it is come unto me, but with 
inexpressible pain. O eternity, eternity, how long!' 

This is, indeed, the last, but lamentable end of profane 
swearers, who shall confess the equity of God in their 
torments ; nor let the petty swearer think that he shall 
escape with impunity since the supreme Judge has said, 
that whatsoever is more than yea^ or no.y^ is evil. 

But, as the wicked shall be answered in their ways, so 
shall the righteous be in theirs. All their imperfect at- 
tainments, longings, wrestlings, hopes, desires, prayers, 
meditations, tears, godly sorrows, spiritual joys, and the 
seeds of every other grace, shall come to a comfortable 
conclusion at last. J^ow they serve God with weakness, 
imX. then they shall enjoy him with a vigorous immortali- 
ty. They sow in tears, and go weeping heavenward, but 
shall possess him in a triumphant state, where sorrow and 
sighing shall for ever flee away. 



MEDITATION XXI. 

^ Thinking on a dead friend. 

Spithead,3Iay 10, i'75d. 

A MELANCHOLY gloom had well nigh spread its mid- 
night shades over my brooding mind, when thinking on a 
J ^ad friend, whom I represented to myself as no mnr^ : 



110 THE TRAVELLEK, 

If 

but, all on a sudden, a sacred sentence beamed refresluul I 
on my soul ; '* That all live unto God.'' * 

Let me then borrow a similitude, and suppose that niy 
friends and I live under the government of a great king, 
who has vast dominions, and who has chosen for his royal 
residence, a pleasant, but remote province,wherehis palace 
stands, and where he i^eeps court, shewing himself in king- 
ly glory ^ and excellent majesty, while we live, compared 
to the royal country, in a howling wilderness, a dry and ^ 
thirsty land, but still under the sceptre and protection of 
the king. And farther, let me suppose, that this great 
king (^^ hich would be stupendous condescension in him) 
had conceived such a regard for my friends, that he had 
given his royal word, that he would send a noble guard, 
so soon as he thought fit, h.nd fetch them home to himself, 
- that he niiglit bestow on every one of them, not a duke- 
dom, but a kingdom, a crowir, and excellent majesty. 
Nov/, would I storm at the guard, or murmur at their er- 
rand ? Yea, would not I rather give the messengers an 
hearty welcome, and bless their august sovereign r and the 
more so, if i had the royal promise also of being myself 
transported thither ? 

Th^n, is there any promise like his, whose counsel stands 
fast, and whose faithfulness cannot fail ? Is there any 
guard like that of heavenly angels? Or any happiness 
like the celestial felicity ? And, if these things be so, is not 
the state of the dead happy beyond conception that die 
in Jesiis ? Now, the glory of my departed friend, infinite- 
ly transcends the blaze of created grandeu:. Mortality 
is put oflf, and iramortality put on ; their house is not of 
this building, and so not of this frame, nor on this foun- 
dation, but eternal in the heavens. 

Upon the above supposition, my friend, and his kingly 
patron, might fall out, as nothing is more fickle than royal 
favour ; but here, there is no fear of his falling from the 
favour of the Prince of life, because he rests in his love 
for ever, which kindles .gratitude and love in the saints 
through endless day. In such a place, and in such a con- 
dition, would I not V. ish all my fiiends ! Here vve live to 
die, but there they live to reign ! though to human nature^ 
a little regulated sorrow may be allowed, )'et, that bound- 
less glory, and eternal bliss, which, to the highest degree^ 
my departed frieod enjoys, forbid uie to bewail him to any 



THE TRAVELLER;, 111 

great decree, or lament him as lost, who is found of God, 
or as dead, who nev^er could be said till now to live. Why- 
should my sad reflections terminate on his crumbling clay, 
and not rather rise to meditate how his active soul is in- 
cessantly employed in the hosannah's of the higher house, 
and unweariedly exercised in beholding and blessing Je- 
hovah and the l^amb? and thus convert my pensive 
thoughts into a Christian preparation for the same bles- 
sed passage to the same blessed place. 



MEDITATION XXII. 

37*6 union between Christ and believers, 

Spithead,3IayU,ri52. 

There is an union between Christ and believers, that 
every metaphor falls short of. No relation so near as he : 
The friend may prove false, the brother betray the broth- 
er, parents cast off the relation, and husband and wife be 
separated. Three strong figures hold forth this union, 
that of the tree and his branches, the head and his mem- 
l?ers, and eating the flesh, and drinking ihe blood of the 
Son of God. Now, what we eat and drink mixes with 
the mass of blood, and is so intimately assimilated with 
the fluids, that no power can separate it again ; so, when 
by faith I receive the Son of God, and eat his flesh, and 
drink his blood, my soul partakes of the divine nature, till 
every power is holy, every affection heavenly, and till the 
life of Christ is made manifest in my body. 

After this union, the soul and Christ cannot be separa- 
ted ; death may send the soul out of the body, but cannot 
send Christ out of the soul : And hereupon follows a 
commonness of interest. Christ renews the will, sancti- 
fies the affectionii, enlightens the understanding, and 
claims the whole soul for his temple ; yea more, he show- 
ers down his mercies, numbers his crosses, weighs his af- 
flictions, wherewith he himself is also afflicted, and bears 
his sorro^vs. And all of Christ is the souPs ; his righte- 
ousuasg, his love, his joy, his pardon, his mercy, kindne|«, 



11^ THE TRAVELIiER. 

and compassion ; his protection, direction, and condaci ; 
bis favour, his power, and sympathy, his light, and glory, 
yhis croAvn, and throne, his felicity, and his eternity in 
'life. Thus the soul lives in Christ, and he in the soul. 
Their life is divinely interwoven ; " you in me, and I in 
you." Hence, because he lives, they shall live also. Hus- 
band and wife must lose their relation by death ; the 
branches may be out off from the root, and the head, that 
sympathises with all, may lose some of its members : but 
he that is joined to the Lord is one spirit, and a spirit 
can never be divided. 

This mysterious union is bliss begun on earth, and hea- 
venly felicity tasted below, and shall be the eternal admi- 
ration of angels, the envy of devils and damned spirits, 
and the wonder of the higher house. 



IMEMTATION. XXIII. 

Innperfect aUmnments. 

How pitiful are our highest attainments in this imper- 
fect state I But, O how beautiful is it for the child of 
grace to grow daily in grace, and in the knowledge of 
God ! to rise step by step, till at length complete in Him 
w^ho is the pattern of perfection ! Let it be my continu- 
al struggle, then, that my grace, like the shining light, 
may shine more and more till the perfect day of glory. 
I can never get so near to God, but there still remains, 
and through eternity will remain, a distance, to be de- 
stroyed by approaching yet more near. Mine attain- 
ments can never be so high, but there remains something 
attainable, which I have not yet attained. " Not as 
though I had already attained, either were already per- 
fect, but I follow after, if I may apprehend that for which 
also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus." If this was 
the confession of the great apostle, what must I say, who 
am but just setting my head through the shadows of the 
night, and peeping into the dawning of divine things ? 

Hence let me press vigorously towards perfection, and 
not be Gojitented with one beam of his glory, seeing he 



THE TRAVELLER. 115 

Is willing to reveal it all. Let me. ilaily be drawing more 
near to him, till, Enoch-like, I walk with God, and have 
my conversation in heaven. Let me daily sit at wisdom's 
door, and stand at tlie gate of paradise, that, since as yet 
I cannot enter in, I may send in my faith to view the 
fields, the land of my Beloved, and returning, bring me 
the substance of the excellencies hoped for, the evidence 
of the glorious things not seen. Let me walk in the 
mount of God, with him whose form is like the Son of 
God. Let the desire of my soul be to thy name, and 
the remembrance of thee. Let an uninterrupted com- 
munication be broken up between the fountain of life and 
my soul, that I may bear no more the reproach of bar- 
renness. And from that river of life that springs from 
the throne of God, and of the Lamb, let me daily drink, 
that I may thirst no more after the vanities of time. Let 
me live quite above the w^orld, above its pleasures, and 
above its pains, disdain its flatteries, and despise its frowns. 
Let grace grow from one degree unto another, till, at last, 
O desirable perfection ! it grow to glory. Let me hold 
thee, and not let thee go, till thou bless me, in perfecting 
my attainments, and crowning my happiness with the 
full fruition, unclouded vision, and uninterrupted com- 
munion with Jehovah, and the Lamb, for ever more. 



MEDITATION XXIV. 

On king's allowance. 

May 19, 1T48. 

It is surprising, that government allows the least boy 
the same kind and quantity of provisions that any man 
or any officer aboard can claim ; yet, it is no more thaa 
may be expected from royal generosity, since they, \n 
their capacity, support the same cause, undergo the same 
hardships, rush into the same dangers, and expose their 
lives, though young and tender, at the coniaiandment, 
«ad for the honour of the King. 



il4 THE TRAVSLLEE. 

Even so, every child of grace that is born into the 
family of God, has the same ample right to all the heav- 
enly blessings. No sooner is he a son, than he is an heir 
of all the fulness of the covenant. Tlie young convert 
is allowed by the King eternal, to plead the performance 
of all the promises, and to claim ail the privileges that 
the aged saint can do. 

Again, as nothing can be more pleasant, than to see 
early youth v/alking in the ways of holiness ; so, often 
to such have bright manifestations of love, and large 
communications of grace, been given. And the love of 
espousals, and the kindness of youth, is a melting, a long 
remembered kindness. Have not some children gone oft' 
the stage, with such a gale of glory on their spirits, that 
aged saints have been at once astonished and ashamed ? 

Have not some youths, who have suffered martyrdom 
for the name of Jesus, been so assisted with grace, that 
they despised reproach, and smiled in the face of danger — 
been so refreshed with foretastes of glory, that they could 
contemn torment, and mount the scaffold v, ith the same 
joy as if they had been going up the rounds of Jacob's 
ladder? And, have not some striplings on a death-bed 
had such a double portion of communion, that they could 
look on dissolution with delight, forbid their friends to 
pray for their recovery, and could meet their fatal mo- 
ments with the same alacrity as a young prince going to 
the grand solemnity of his own coronation ? 



MEDITATION XXY. 

On the blowing up of a ship. 

Many are the appearances which death puts on, and 
in every one of them he is terrible. Sometimes his com- 
mission bears him to lay siege to the clay-walls for a long 
time, and to waste them away with a lingering consump- 
tion ; and then he steals on them so insensibly, that they 
still entertain hopes of recov^ery, and believe themselves 
fetter a day or two before death. At one time he comes 
in flames of fire, at another tyne, ia swelling floods; and 



THE TSAVELLER. 115 

at aaother time, by a sudden stroke, he sweeps the man 
at once off the stage. 

Though fire is terrible any where, yet much more so 
when the burning pile is surrounded by a boundless sea. 
It is, no doubt, a moving sight, to see a naked family, 
with wringing hands, and weeping eyes, deplore their all 
in flames ! A family, just alarmed out of their m.idnight 
sleep, by the doleful cries of affrighted spectators, w^ith 
no more than time to escape the burning blaze I How-ever, 
by the assistance of w ater-engines, and a thousand friend- 
ly hands, the fire is got under, and half the house is sa- 
ved ; or, should all be consumed, they are still happy in 
the possession of life, and the charity of well disposed 
Christians. But the scene alters at sea, and is much more 
dismal, as the ship I speak of felt. Strong and well 
equipped, the glory of the fleet, she spread the pompous 
sails, suspended by the lofty masts, divided the rolling 
billows with the nimble keel, was rich in men and officers, 
and waved the honorary flag from the highest top ; but, 
all at once, while no danger is dreamed of, and at noon, a 
fire bewrays itself beloAV, too far advanced to be got un- 
der, too terrible to be beheld without trembling. It kin- 
dles fear in every breast, and nothing can be done. Sig- 
nals of distress are fired, but only a poor merchantman 
comes to her assistance ; yet dares not come too near, 
for fear of sinking by the wreck. The fire rages still, 
and it is strange, in the midst of water, to perish by fire. 
Were the oceans a plain, with what cheerfulness would 
they come down, and see the last plank in flames ! But, 
death, gaping from the hollow waves, forbids them to de- 
scend, and every moment they expect to be blown into 
the air, and strewed in mangled legs and arms along the 
briny deep. What confused counsels I what feeble hands I 
what fainting hearts ! what struggling thoughts I what 
staring eyes I wiiat screams and cries I the ship's sides 
are lined with expectants of deliverance. The}^ look ev- 
eiy way, but in vain, for relief. One boat only appears, 
■which dares not come aiong-side ; vet many take the des- 
perate leap, and falling short of the boat, pluiige into 
the sea, and are seen no more, a terrifying sight to all be- 
hind I Still the fire increases, till anon the guns, loaded 
for action, sweep the crowded sides of the ship, of these 
very men they were designed to defend. Death is in the 



116 TRE TEAVELLER, 

waters, death is in the fires ; it pursues behind, attacks 
before, and hedges in on every side I Okl and young, who 
had survived the day of battle, are, in this melancholy 
manner, and on so short a warning, hurried into another 
world. The flames grow more furious, and on all sides 
lifeless hodies float around, a sad sight to surviving frieads ! 
Her own boats carry ofl" a few men, but find not the way 
back again. At length, the masts break down, destroy- 
ing numbers as they fall, and officers die undistinguished 
in the throng ; while the admiral, stript of his uniform, 
hanging by an oar, struggles for life on the liquid wave 
till taken up. Many attempt to save themselves on pie- 
ces of the wreck, while the remains of the ship sink out 
of sight ; but the angry waves wash them oft' their last 
relief, and they perish in the deep waters. Yet, mercy 
shines in the midst of shipwreck and death, for many es- 
cape with their life, though deprived of every thing else !* 
O ! strange to tell, will we quit with all that we have, 
for a few days, or a few years of our natural life, and 
yet quit with nothing at all for eternal life and endless 
glory? And, if fire that can be extinguished with wa- 
ter, or burn away to lifeless ashes, be so terrible, what 
must the fire of infinite wrath be, that shall burn up the 
wicked for ever ? Finally, since my situation is the same, 
may I study to prepare for death at any time, and in 
any shape : then I shall face the flames, yea, fall into 
them, knowing, that my immortal soul, from these cal- 
cining fires, more fragrant than the spices of the east, shall 
rise a celestial phcenix, to live the many thousands of 
eternity, and never, never die. 



HEDITATION XXVI. 

^ome slain by mercies, as well as by judgments. 

Spiihead, May 22, 1758. 

Grace, and grace alone, can conquer the heart of 
man ; for, have I not seen one, who had all manner of 
misfortunes in his family, substance, relations, charac- 

♦ The ship alluded to, was A^iral Erodf rick's, whioli felew upm 

the Straits of QJLhvzltAV, 



THE TRAVELLER. IIT 

ler, and person ; his family carried off by strange death?, 
his substance reduced to nothing, his pomp blown away 
like a cloud of smoke, his friends falling into grievous 
calamities, his character suffering by every tongue, the 
heavens revealing his iniquity, and the earth rising up 
against him, and his body long the dwelling place of 
loathsome disease, till death has sent his stinking car- 
case to the rotten grave ; and yet the man remains a 
sinner to the last ? Also, have I not seen the soldier, 
and the sailor, w ho in the day of battle had lost a leg, 
an arm, an eye, a piece of the scull, and some of their 
senses, have been made prisoners of war, and worn out 
with long confinement, and cruel usage, and yet these 
Jiien remain proof against every judgment; incorrigi- 
ble, though often corrected ; stubborn under the strokes 
of heaven, inattentive to the language of the rod, and 
daringly brave an angry God? On the other hand, 
have I not seen a man, who had a flourishing family, 
growing up to maturity, like trees by a wall bathing in 
pleasures, held in common esteem, seeing his children's 
children, riches, with little industry, pouring in on him 
from every quarter, himself, though full of days, and 
covered with hoar hairs, yet possessing the vigour of 
youth, and his bones full of raarroAv, and yet this very 
man walk in a stated contradiction to the Author of all 
his blessings ? Have I not also seen the man, who, when 
exposed on the thundering fields of war, or in the more 
terrible sea-engagement, has yet stood safe amidst sur- 
rounding dangers, and received not a single wound, 
while some where losing limbs, or falling down dead on 
every hand ; or when perhaps the ship sunk, or a fire 
kindled in her bowels, that consumes the miserable crew, 
yet escaped the flames, sui^ives the wreck, and lives to 
tell the astonishing story of his deliverance in the field, 
or on the flood ? One would think that such a man w^ould 
be melted down into gratitude, and live to his glory, who 
had been his help in the day of distress, and had covered 
his head in the day of war ; yet he walks in a stated op- 
position to the Most High, and boldly offends tlie God 
of all his mercies. Thus we see one that is disappointed 
in every undertaking, crushed at every hard, yet re- 
main impenitent under judgments ; and we see another 
ijiat succeeds in every wish, swims in created blisfs, and 



118 THE TRAVELLEH. 

walks in the clear noon of prosperity, yet remain obdu- 
rate under love, and chargeable with an ingratitude to- 
wards Heaven, that would be accursed among men. To 
fee slain by mercies, or by judgments, is a terrible death ; 
it is the death of the uncircumcised in heart. When they 
are not improved, they give fury to the falling storm, 
and make the thunder bolts of wrath break with dread- 
ftil vengeance on their guilty heads through an endless 
evermore ! O ! then to be corrected in love, and to have 
my heart bettered by the sadness of my countenance ; 
and, on the other hand, to have blessings, with a bless- 
ing, and all my mercies sweetly drawing my soul out 
to God. 



MEDITATION XXVH. 

On a fine fleet. 

Spithead, May 23, 1T38. 

What means this splendid fleet, this expensive navy ? 
No doubt, to deal destruction to our foes, and ride tri- 
umphant over the §ea. Had the world been peopled in 
some parts from the planets, we shoiild not wonder much 
to see fierce contests between the old inhabitants and 
the new. Biit the matter is not so, for we have all one 
father, and are all of one blood. Not very many ages 
ago, the contending monarchs lay in one loins, and 
slept in one womb; and all mankind are brethren. 
Whence are empires filled with anarchy, kingdoms with 
rebellion, families with terror and tears, while the broth- 
er butchers the brother, the son the father, the husband 
the wife, and the person that is driven into despair, rises 
in rebellion against his own life ^ It is because we are 
all in a state of rebellion against God. What a shame 
is it for men massacre one another, or depopulate whole 
nations, for a few furlongs of earth, which, in a few 
years hence, their eyes shall see in flames ; an agonising 
sight to their ambition I 

Ve think much of nation rising against nation, but, 
since Adam turned rebel, the whole universe is up in 
ar^iis against Heaven, a f^w bumbl© supplicants in all 



ages excepted, who, having made peace through the 
Kmg's Son, are again received into favour ; but what 
are they to the many millions that are under the com- 
mand of the god of this world, the spirit that now 
worketh in the children of disobedience ! What pity 
to see at this standard the sovereign and the swain, the 
statesman and the general, the soldier and the hus- 
bandman, the merchant and the mariner, the mastev 
and the servant ; yea, and women Who, in other wars, 
tarry at home 1 Moreover, besides this general insur- 
rection against Heaven, there is a war in the breast of 
all believers, some of the old principles of rebellioa 
rising up against the laws of their rightful Lord and King: 
*' A law in our members warring against the law^ of our 
mind, and bringing us into captivity to the law of sin :^' 
however, grace shall at last prevail. 

This is the army of Gog and Magog, which covers 
the face of the whole earth, and makes war with the 
Lamb; whom the Lamb shall overcome, for he is 
Lord of lords, and King of kings. There is a day of 
^'laughter coming, i.vhen the sword of his justice shall 
be drunken with the blood of his enemies; when 
those who woe id not have him to reign over them irx 
the spirituality of his government, shall be slain before 
his face, and cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, 
which is the second death. 

Would the princes of the earth submit to the Prince 
of peace, soon should they beat their swords into plough- 
shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks, and every 
man sit under jiis vine, and under his fig-tree. Were they 
more careful to extend the Christian religion, tlian to 
extend their conquest and commerce, more to grow in 
grace than in riches, and to improve more for eternity than 
time, how would our world be Hephzibah^ and our earth 
l^eulahy and tlie general contention between crowned 
heads and their subjecfs, through every land, be, who 
vould live most like angels, and love most like seraphim ! 



120 THE TRAVELLER. 

MEDITATION XXVIH. 

Setting sail. 

Set sail, thou venturous rover, and let thy daring keel 
cut the dividing billow, and plow the briny deep. But 
whither art thou bound ? To cruize on a tempestuous 
ocean, or dash against inhospitable shores. — Well, my 
soul, remember that thou also hast set sail, and art rapid- 
ly carried down the stream of time, to the ocean of eter- 
nity. I should consider under what latitude, and to what 
point I am steering ; if under the latitude of the new 
birth, and a lively faith, I shall at last drop anchor at 
the haven of bliss ; but if under the latitude of a natu- 
ral state and unbelief, I shall be driven, by di\'ine indig- 
nation, on the rocks of everlasting ruin, and tossed a 
deplorable wreck on the Hoods of wrath. 

How ignorant is the heathen world of a future state I 
But, since the Son of God is come, and has taught - us 
all the mysteries of the spiritual navigation, we launch 
at once into the depth of ages, and, in our exalted 
views, leaving land on every side, we look not at the 
things which are seen, but at the things Avhich are not 
seen ; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the 
things which are not seen are eternal. 

AVhy should I fear, or be dismayed ; for shall I not 
have a prosperous voyage, and a pleasant landing, since 
Christ is both my pilot and my pole ? since his Spirit is 
promised to lead and guide me into all truth ; since the 
scriptures are my compass, alight to my feet, and a lamp 
to my path ; since hope is my anchor, cast within the 
vail ; faith my telescope, that gives me views of the world 
to come ; self-examination my sounding line, to know 
what depth of water I am in, to try myself, whether I be 
in the faith or not ; and my log-book a Christian diary, 
that I may tell them that fear God what he hath done 
for my soul ; and since all the heav^enly graces are like 
the extended sails, one sail being unfurled after another, 
first faith, which is to the soul as the main-sail to a ship, 
and adding to faith, virtue; and to virtue, knowledge; and 
to knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, patience ; 
and to patience, godliness ; and to godliness, brotherly- 



THE TRAVELLER* 12,1 

kindness ; and to brotherly-kindness, charity. Were I 
once in such a happy state, my next petition would be, 
" Awake, O north wind ! and blow, thou south;" fill my 
extended canvass, and carry me to glory. 



MEDITATION XXIX. 

Time to be redeemed. 

^pithead, May {24, 1758. 

Now I learn that time is precious, though mispent, 
though despised. I begin to set an higher value on that 
which is ever valuable, than I was wont to do ; but, ah ! 
I begin to resolve when golden opportunities are past ; 
and lost for ever I God has been kind in giving me time, 
which I have not been cautious in spending, in improving ; 
but, alas ! blanks are not the vrorst, for 1 have not only 
trifled away, slept away, but sinned away, time. And, 
O I what great things are to be done in this little inch of 
time. God will have none of his servants idle ; we must 
trade with his talents here, and the profit shall be ours 
hereafter. We. must work out our own salvation with 
fear and trembling, encouraged by this, that God works 
all our works in us. Thus, to speak, not like the proud 
legalist, but, like the laborious Christian, we must scale 
» the walls of heaven (for holy violence is allowed) and 
take it by force. We must combat principalities and 
powers, and crucify the flesh, with the affections and lusts* 
I must stand upon my wf?tch, keep a sharp look-out on all 
my foes, on the least sin, cut off" hours which I have too 
©ften spent in (shall I ca41 it) sinful sleep, and guard 
against trifling amusements, and superfluous visits ; not 
that visits and recreations are simply sinful, but the excess 
therein. I must carefully attend to my time as it passes, 
for with grief I see that I cannot recal time when past. 
I have much work on my hand ; I have to bear witness 
to the excellency of religion, and against sinners ; my 
backslid ings to bewail, my failings to amend, my conver- 
sation daily to inspect, my accounts to settle for the day 
of judgment (O to be found in Jesus in that day !) my 
• reanire to lay up in heaven, my affections to i^i on th'w^H 



1^ THE JTRAVELLER. 

above, my sins to mortify, my graces to strengthen, deatii 
to prepare for, eternity to improve for, my salvation to 
secure, God to live to, and the Lord Jesus daily to put 
on. Now, say if such an one has reason to be idle, or to 
trifle time away ? 



MEDITATION XXX. 

In view of an Engagement, 

May U, 1758. 

A FEW days hence, and we shall be contending with 
the foe; death will fasten his cold hands on many of us, 
and numbers shall be dropping into an unknow^i, anlawful, 
an endless eternity ! 

Though this is an event that will certainly take place, 
yet we are all thoughtless and secure, meriy and uncon- 
cerned, as if it were of no moment to change states, an^ 
enter into an invisible world. Ask us ail, one by one, if 
we are afraid we shall die in battle ? and all of us to a 
man, have the fond hopes that we shall escape without a 
wound. But it would look better, if each of us were 
saying, ' perhaps it may be I, perhaps it may be I, that 
shall be slain.' Though my station be not so dangerous 
as that of some, yet, in my situation, some now and then 
are killed, and I rejoice that when I am in danger, I dare 
not trust the sides of the ship for my defence, but thy di- 
vine protection, which is better to me than a thousand 
bulwarks. Let me neither build on false hopes of life, 
rtbr be filled with slavish fears of death, but be prepared 
for all events. In the mean time, I plead that our fleets 
may be defended, our foes defeated, an honorable peace 
concluded, and an end put to the eff'usion of human blood. 
And I also plead, that thou wilt put a covering on my 
head in the day of battle, that I may praise thy power^ 
and s!ng aloud of thy mercy in the morning. 



THE TRAVELLEK. 1£S 

3IEDITATION XXXI. 

On our Lord^s displaying his divinity on the Sea* 

Spitheud, May 26, 1758. 

Till now, I never observed that our Lord, in the days 
of his flesh, perfonned cures, and v/rought miracles on the 
sea. At one time, from the surrounding multitude he 
steps into a ship, and teaches t^^iusands attentive on the 
shore ; and, after finishing his sermon, makes the unsuc- 
cessful fishers cast their nets again into the sea, who catch- 
ing a great draught of fishes, are also caught themselves, 
and made fishers of men. 

Another time, he will go over to the country of the 
Gadarenes, for there was one there, the prey of the ter- 
rible, and captive of the strong, whom he is pleased to de™ 
liver. 80 he enters into a ship, and his disciples, the close 
attendants on their Master, go along with him ; but* 
while his human nature, fatigued with the toils he daily 
underwent, is fast asleep, a tempest came down on the 
ihip, either sent by Providence, that, in rebuking it, he 
might display his divinity, or perhaps satan, who is the 
prince of the pewcr of the air, was permitted to send out 
the fiercest storm which his hellish rage could effectuate, 
to make the atfrighted boatmen row back again, and pre- 
vent the happy passage. However it was, his terrified 
disciples awoke him, and his word makes the fierce winds 
fall asleep, and his presence in a little makes fiercer fiends 
cry out, when turned out of their long possession. O 
how pleasant to think, that he who came from heaven to 
earth to save sinners, goes over a lake to save a soul or 
two ; and though he comes in love unsent for, yet he 
goes not away, till desired to depart I 

Again, our great Lord, after feeding the multitude with 
spiritual and earthly bread, constrains his disciples, who, 
it seems, were loth to move a foot without his presence, 
to go into a ship, while he sent the multitude away ; after 
which he retires into a mountain to pray ; but, by this 
time, they are tossed with a double tempest, one beating 
their ship Avithout, and another disquieting their soul 



i^4 THE TRAVELLER. 

within. It appears they had entered the ship between 
six and nine in the afternoon, and were tossed on the wa- 
ters till between three and six in the morning, a long time 
indeed to the trembling disciples. The scene is altered 
now, for before they had no more to do but awake their 
Lord, to make the tempest fall asleep ; tet, though they 
saw not their dear Master, yet he saw their distress ; and, 
after letting it heighten to an extremity, to sweeten their 
deliv^erance, he comes a-foot upon the flood, and journeys 
straight to their vessel. The disciples (no doubt, in the 
morning watch, looking out for land) saw him, and sup- 
posing it had been a spirit commissioned to overset them 
altogether, it added so much anguish to their anxiety, and 
terror to their trouble, that they cried out But how soon 
does his kind reply ch^ck their fears, It is I, be not afraid. 
Peter, after asking liberty, comes down to welcome 
him on the watef y element ; but winds above, and waves 
beneath, make Peter's faith stagger so much, that our 
"kind Lord must stretch forth his hand and save him. No 
sooner did he enter the ship, than nature is composed ; 
nor needs he speak a word, his very presence calms the 
tempest, and the winds immediately forbear to blow up- 
on the barge, w^here their Creator is a passenger. How 
happy, then, the soul where he abides for ever ! This 
sudden change in the storm effected a no less sudden, but 
much more momentous change in the minds of the as- 
tonished spectators, who are all at once brought over to 
a belief of his divinity : " Of a truth thou art the Son of 
God." 

How often might the observing mariner say of him 
who did ride through the sea with liis horses, through the 
heaps of great waters, that he hath his way in the whirl- 
wind and in the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his 
feet ! How often sends he out the storm that puts us to 
our wits end, and again calms the dreadful hurricane, to 
our great comfort ! " O that men would praise the Lord 
for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the cMl-- 
dren of men I" 



THE TRATELLES. 1^5 

MEDITATION XXXII. 

ji memorandum for him that goes abroad^ 

% June 28, ITST. 

^ioMETiMEs the call of Providence, sometimes a cove- 
tous heart to amass riches, carry men abroad. If a man 
cannot exercise his religion with liberty in his native 
country, which he can. find in another land, then he may 
be said, instead of going abroad, only to go home. But, 
on the contrary he that wanders from the place where 
God delights to dwell, and relinquishes Zion, which God 
has called his rest, may indeed be said to go abroad ; and 
unless his reasons are valid, when impartially weighed, 
he ought not to go. On no account shouldst thou go with 
a design to remain, unless the gospel gladden the distant 
region ; but when thou art away, remember a few things, 
that thou mayest not forget thyself. 

1. Be always under the impression of God's omnipre- 
sence and omniscience. Thou canst never wander out of 
the hollow of his hand, or swim beyond his ken. 

2. Mind the terrible tribunal, where the complete re- 
gister of all thine actions shall be brought forth ; such and 
such a sin at home, such and such a sin abroad, with such 
and such aggravations. 

3. Know, it is better to stand alone, than fall with ma» 
ny. It will not excuse thy wickedness, that thou wast 
among the Avicked, for sinners shall be bound in bundles, 
that they may burn the fiercer. 

4. Think much on death , that thou mayest not be too 
much charmed with the vanities of life. 

5. Oppose sin in others with courage, for the righteous 
shall be bold as a lion ; though the wicked flees when none 
pursues. 

6. Remember the deceitfulness and uncertainty of rich- 
es ; so shalt thou neither be puflfed up with the possessios, 
nor pained at the loss of them. 

T. Be not jeered out of thy religion, or flouted out of 
thy devotion ; better be the object of man's ridicule, 
than the subject of God's wrath. 

8. Set not thy heart on any intended acquisition 
'Abroad, and so thou shalt not return home disappointed 
12 t 



9. Remark providences, and thou shalt never want 
tbem to remark. 

10. Let Zion and the people of God have a place in thy 
prayers, and thou shalt again have a place in Zion among 
the people of God. 

11. Since thou canst not haire God in his public ordi- 
nances, seek the God of ordinancesin private daily ; and, 
when deprived of the preached word, esteem and peruse 
the written word the more. 

12. Be not hasty in making acquaintance, nor rash in 
chusing thy friends. 

IS. Mediate often ; a secret good rises from this secret 
exercise. 

14. Examine thy condition often ; it is the sign of a 
bankrupt never to open his b6oks, nor look into his ac- 
counts. 

15. Let prayer be thy daily pleasure and employ. To 
be much in the presence of an earthly king makes a cour- 
tier ; but the presence of the King of kings makes a 
Christian, an angel. 

16. Think much on the unseen world, and let the cer- 
tainty of that which \s to come, dispel the delusion of the 
present, which passeth away. 

IT. As thou raayest never again see thy native coun* >. 
try, and thy father's house, let heaven be thy native coun- \ 
try, and then death shall bring thee to thy better home. 

18. Eye God's glory in all, and prefer the approbation 
of God and thine own conscience, to the applause of 
men. 

19. Double thy diligence. Satan will double his temp- 
tations, sins and snares will multiply around thee ; there- 
fore multiply thy cries to God, keep in thy strong hold, 
and act faith on him at all times. 

20. Remember that the Sabbath is alike holy in all la» 
titudes, and should be sanctified with the same sincerity 
in Britain and Japa.n : for, though Christendom for a while 
lijay be absented, Christianity is never to be abandoned. 

21. Beware that thou live not to thyself, the world, op 
for time ; but liv^ above the world, for eternitv, and to 



THE TRAVELLER. l2l 

MEDITATION XXXIII. 

How the Sabbath, or Lord?s Day, is to be sandificiL 

Sjnihead,Jidyi5,r75Z, 

While my situation is in a place wliere the Sabbath 
seems to be forgot, what can be more proper than to ah';.: 
myself, How the Sabbath is to be sanctified ? Then the 
Sabbath is to be sanctified by all men, in all places 
throughout the whole world, and during the whole day ;— 
is to be sanctified by breaking off from sins, abstaining 
from pleasures at other times allowed, and laying aside 
callings on other days la\vful ; — is to be kept holy, out- 
wardly, by the man, and his actions; inwardly, by the 
mind and its tlioughts : But we may be employed in works 
of necessity and mercy, by defending ojapelves and oth- 
ers, our cattle and substance from fire |||d A ater, from 
wild beasts and mad dogs ; by feeding the poor, comfort- 
ing the afflicted, and showing mercy to all in distress. 
But, on the other hand, this day is profaned by men of 
every rank ; in the palace, by unnecessary levees, by in- 
troducing strangers, noblemen, and ambassadors into the 
royal presence, and by holding privy-councils witliout ur- 
gent necessity. Abroad the world, this blessed day is pro- 
faned by gaming, riding for recreation, takiiig unnecessa- 
ry journeys, visits, banquetings, and marriages ; taking 
too much t5me up ia dressing our bodies, allowing our- 
selves to sleep longer in the morning, and go sooner to 
bed, that day, than on any other; cloying our spirits, 
that should be active in spiritual exercises, by living 
sumptuously, and above our ordinary method, on that 
day ; — by frequenting vain company, or using carnal dis- 
course, for, as the prophet observes, wliere he forbids to 
"' speak words" that because we on the Sabbath can speak 
little to advantage, it would be much to our advantage 
to speak little: — by traversing the streets after sermon, 
or walking in crowds to fields, gardens, and such like pla- 
ces ; though, Isaac-like, we may go alone to meditate in 
the field ; — by having roving looks in church, or allow- 
ing ourselves or others to sleep ;-^by diverting our eyeg 
out at doors, or windows, with every thing that passes 



1^8 THE TRAVELLER. 

by :*-by wandering thoughts, and idle theines :-^by go* 
ing to public houses, coffee houses, and such like places, 
leading histories or newspapers, telling news or idle sto- 
ries ; — by jesting, laughing, or too much mirth, and not 
having a composure of spirit becoming the dignity cf the 
day ;— by carrying on love-suits, or gallanting sweet- 
hearts on that sacred day, designed for nobler entertain- 
ment ; — by buying, selling, or exchanging goods of any 
kind, laying wagers, shaving, cleaning houses or kitchen 
furniture on that day ; by flocking to harbours to see 
ships set sail, bringing stores and provisions on board on 
that day ; — by washing decks, making and mending ropes, 
scraping births, sewing clothes, writing letters to friends, 
journals, and log-books, which may be done the ensuing 
day ; — by whistling, singing profane songs, and playing 
on musical instruments : — by building bridges, ships, 
boats, and other such vessels ; — by viewing^our fields, plan- 
tations, orchag^ gardens, corns, and cattle, to see if all 
be in a flotrisSj^ condition ; — by surveying new houses 
and inclosures, or any thing that occurs to us by the way, 
in going to, or coming from church ; — by needless com- 
pliments, and useless congratulatious, multiplied to ex- 
cess, when friends fall in our way ;— by postponing ope- 
rations at hospitals, and infirmaries, till this day : and by 
every thing whereby the gloiy of God, the edification of 
others, and the good of o^ir own souls, is not pursued and 
promoted. 

This heavenly day is wholly to be employed in public, 
private, and secret devotion, in th,e congreg..tion, with 
our families, and by ourselves alone ; setting our aftec- 
tions on things on high, and studying to have our con- 
versation in heaven, showing a proper concern for the 
great salvation, and preparing for the world to come. 
Alas ! then, I see how little I know of Sabbath-sanctifi- 
cation, and of being in the Spirit on the Lord's day! And, 
alas ! how is this day profaned, by land and sea I at home 
and abroad I in our fleets, and in our armies ! in country, 
and in town ! by people of all ranks, and by persons of 
all professions. 



THE TRAVELLEE. 119 

MEDITATION XXXIV. 

Anchoring off an enerm/^s coast, 

Cancal Bay, June 21, 1T58. 

Kow we are not far from land, but, however fierce the. 
storm, we must not set a foot on shore, else we should soon 
find ourselves in the power, and at the mercy of our en» 
emies. Even so it fares with the wicked, who are at war 
with the God of the whole earth. Now, in the day of 
patience, they can put off without making friendship 
with God ; but what will they do in their last extremity, 
in the day of visitation, and in the desolation that shall 
come from far ? To whom will they flee for help, seeing^ 
they will not lay claim to one promise ; and have no in- 
terest in him that made the promises ? How will they 
stand when the storm pursues behind, and no shelter pre- 
sents itself before? And how will it gall tliem to see the 
saints in quiet resting places, and themselves exposed foi* 
ever to the tempest ? 

But although we may not land here, yet we may re- 
turn to our own king's dominions, where we shall be joy- 
fully received. But it is not so with tlie sinner, who is 
in rebellion against Heaven. AVhither shall he flee from 
God, or where can he hide himself from his omniscient, 
eye ? How shall he get without the reach of his all-pres- 
ent arm, or escape the stroke of angry Omnipotence? 
God he has disobeyed, Christ he has rejected, the promise 
he has despised, sinned away the day of grace, and tram- 
pled on the patience of Heaven : So, when the Judge shall 
come in flames, and it shall be very tempestuous round 
about, what will he do ? To what God can he go ? Te 
what Saviour can he cry ? To what hand can he turn — 
to whom shall he deplore himself — and in what ear make 
his moan ? What promise can he plead, or to which of 
the saints can he turn ? Ah I God is his inexorable Judge, 
and the Saviour is no more his friend ; all hopes perish, 
all helps fail, all friends forsake, pity has no ear to his 
complaint, and mercy no compassion on his moan ! O how 
miserable are the wicked, then, who thus on oceans of 
burning brimstone, shall be exposed to the storms and 
>mpe«ts of eternal wrath, and never, never see ashore !* 



ISO THE TRAVELLER. 

But, on the other hand, ho\v happy art thou, O saint ! 
Every land is the property of Him who in all his vast 
possessions is thine by promii?e. He is thiae who can 
make enemies entreat thee well in adversity : he is thine 
who is not only the God of the whole earth, but the pos- 
sessor of heaven and glory ; who is not only the Prince 
of the kings of the earth, but the Father of eternity who 
holds the waters in the hollow of his hand. Thou art 
safe, therefore, upon the depths; and though thou shouldst 
never see thy native country, yet thou sbdll make, when 
thy course is finished, the land that lies afar off. 



MEDITATION XXXV. 

Coasiing on a country of anoihtr religion. 

Under sdil, 175 8. 

Since the foolish sons of men fell a building their own. 
confusion, what a difference of tongues has taken place ^ 
Hence, though I was ashore on that land, I could neithec 
understand, nor be understood, but by an interpreter. 
But, since defection entered the Christian church, how, 
in some lands, is all gone to confusion \ 

Still the Christian name continues, but primitive f hris- 
tianity is rooted out there, where a pretended successor of 
Peter is the fulfilment of that prediction, which mentions 
the coming of the man of sin, and which to me confirms 
the truth of the scriptures. They have turned the puri- 
ty of religion into the pomp of superstition ; the simpli- 
city of the gospel, into mumbling and muttering of pray- 
ers, in an unknown tongue ; and the spiritual rule over 
the flock of God, into a tempoi'al dominion over the king- 
doms. They have let go the kernal and substance of re- 
ligion, for the shell and show; hence, such adorning of 
churches, and such abundance of altars and images. 
There the man of sin sways his midnight sceptre, for fil- 
thy lucre, forgiving sins which God will never ac-juit, be- 
f?ause in a way God never appointed, nor will approve of; 
^n^. tramplingj on th« divine command, profctituies sacre<! 



THE TRAVELLEE. ISI 

tilings ; hence baptising of bells, conpccratiiig places, w a- 
ter, &c. It were irksome to repeat their impostures, and 
spiritual whoredoms, with which the nations are di-unk ; 
but, what a pity it is to see them, in the matters of reli" 
gion, go hood-winked to hell ! And men so polite, learn- 
ed, and expert in other respects, so easily imposed upon 
in the concerns of their salvation ! AVhen shall the 
brightness of the coming of the Son of man, in the puri- 
ty of the gospel, which is the sword that proceeds out of 
his moutli, make the kings, who now support, hate the 
whore, eat her flesh, and burn her with fire ? 

How great is the happiness, then, of a refoimed land, 
where the glorious truths of Christianity are not conceal- 
ed from any, where the poor have the gospel preached to 
them, and the scriptures loosed from their dark originals, 
in their mother tongue, and where the people are allow- 
ed, according to the primitive institution, to commemo- 
rate, in both kinds, the death and sufte rings of our dearest 
Lord ! Wo to them that dwell among a people that are 
terrified for Papal bulls ; that put light for darkness, and 
darkness for light, good works in the place of justifying 
righteousness, and the Pope in the seat of God ; who, 
not having attained to the spiritual knowledge of the 
Redeemer, enkame their affections, and kindle their de- 
votions, by gazing on sensible representations of a suffer- 
ing i^aviour, who can only be beheld savingly by the eye 
of faith. Though with our bodily eyes we could see Je- 
sus expiring on the cross in deepest agony and pain, 
which were better than a thousand crucifixes, and lively 
pictures, it could only move pity in us to him as a tor- 
tured man, but could not beget in us the faith of bis di- 
vinity ; hence so many unconverted spectators of the 
awful scene ; and hence still the lifeless devotions of the 
blinded Papists. 

O I then, that the days of the Son of man would beam 
on the Christian chuiches, such as Rome enjoyed when 
first obedient to the faith; that they might cast off the 
yoke of the imperious whore that sits on many a hill, 
and deliv^er their souls that d^vell in spiritual Babylon I 
O ! then, that the Son of Righteousness would arise with 
healings in his wings, and with his glorious beams'dispel 
the darkness from the nations, and tlie gross darkness from 
ihe people, that Rome, with the lesser Asia, may return 



l^^ THE TRATELLER. 

to their former purity, to their first love, and ovet the 
revived universe there may be but one Lord, and his 
name one. 



MEDITATION XXXYI. 

The 3Iasis. 

At sea, June 25, 1T58. 

How do the stately masts thrust their head into Ihc 
bky, and see the breaking billows far beneath them \ 
Even so sovereigns and princes are exalted far above their 
subjects. But, for as high as the mast is raised above 
the hull, yet its safety is only by being sunk into the 
very body of the ship ; so is the king's honour, and the 
prince's safety, in the multitude of their subjects. 

Of v.^hat service could a ship without masts, or masts 
without a ship be ? So in the body, political, spiritual and 
natural, Infinite Wisdom has made every member subservi- 
ent to another, that there may be no schism. 

Without masts, which support the tackle, and expand- 
ed sails, a ship could move no where, but would lie like 
a wreck on the waters ; so without rulers, and subordina- 
tion, must a people perish in tumult and confusion. 

If the masts are exalted in the view of all, they are 
exposed to tempests from every quarter ; so fares it with 
men of station and power, they are hated by one, and en- 
vied by another, reproached by a third, and undennin- 
ed by a fourth. 

In a storm, or tempest, it is sometimes necessary, in or- 
der to save the ship, to cut the masts by the board ; so, 
sometimes to save a state, or nation, it is necessary to de- 
throne a cruel, an obstinate oppressor, and chase away a 
tyrant. 

If the hull is rotten, and leaky, though the masts be 
never so strong and fresh, yet the vessel may perish in 
the deep waters ; so, if the people be irreligious, and li- 
centious, the prudent conduct and probity of the best 
kings cannot prevent their rushing into ruin. 

It is only when a ship goes to sea, with her masts and 
top-masts in order, and all her sails unfurled, and filled by 



THE TftATELLKR. 13S 

the gentle breeze, that she makes so grand an appearance 
to the peopled shore ; for, stretching into the boundless 
ocean, she lessons gradually till she can be seen no more : 
Even so, the men who now are famed over half the globe, 
shall in a little be lost to human eye, on the ocean of eter- 
nity, and have no more concern vAih time. 

When the ship is grown old, and accounted no more fit 
for service, she is brought ashore, and broken up, and 
then the stately masts lie equally humble on the ground 
with the meaner planks, or very keel ; even so, in death, 
shall all flesh return to dust, and the distinctions of a few 
days shall no more avail them, shall take place no more. 
May a belief of this influence me while I live below. 



MEDITATION XXXVII. 

ITpon one h ting put imder confinement aboard. 
Under sail, Jwu 26, 1T58. 

Tritly we might be surprised to think that one could 
be closer confined in a ship at sea, than only to be in it ; 
for, what is the vessel but a floating prison, where the 
closest confinement can only deprive a man of a few 
paces ? Where can the man go^ who has nothing over 
him but the canopy of the sky, or around him but the li- 
quid ocean ? Yet to be forbid to walk the very declj, to 
be locked in the cumbrous irons, and put under the care 
ef the sentinel, and his naked sword, are marks of anger 
and restraint. 

Even so, a man m^y be straitened in himself, a prison- 
er at home, though he might range the whole globe, and 
find himself fettered with grief, and manacled with sor- 
row, pensive amidst his pleasures, and dejected among 
his friends. 

Wherever ,these prisoners are permitted to go, they 
are always attended with the sentinels in arms ; so the 
man whose conscience is awakened, shall find a constant 
companion, and unwearied reprover, who will either re- 
prove to purpose, ©r reproach for ever. 



134 THE TRAVELLER. 

AVheo a man has transgressed the martial law, neither 
money nor fi-iends sometimes can prevent punishment; 
so nothing in the world can preserve from, or enable to 
support a wounded spirit. If the stroke comes from 
above, so must tlie relief. How poor are all possessions 
to a person that has not peace within ! 

One of these prisoners mutters and complains, is pee- 
vish and displeased at the sentence of his superior, but it 
avails him nothing- ; just so, to repine at affliction, and 
complain on Providence, is the mark of an unsanctified 
heart, and cannot shorten our trials, or alleviate our trou- 
bles, but must sharpen our sorrows and heighten our suf- 
ferings. 

But another of them enjoys himself in his confinement, 
is cheerful and composed, knowing that a very short time 
shall, restore him to liberty ; even so, the saint, amidst 
his afflictions, can be happy and serene, knowing that the 
period is not far distant that shall translate him into the 
glorious liberty of the sons of God. Paul and Silas could 
sing praises in a prison, because when God giv^eth quiet* 
ness, none can cause trouble. 

In a word, wb.at are all the people in the ship, but 
prisoners, whether they approve or disapprove the ex^ 
pression ? Even so, what is the body but a clog, what the 
whole world but a confinement to heirs of immortality^ 
and expectants of heaven ? In this ive earnestly groan 
for the better state, and long to be uncloathed, not that 
we would peevishly drop our existence, be turned out of 
houSvi* and home, but only change our prison for a palace, 
and this corruption put on inoorruplion, and this mortal 
put on immortality, and we Yvaik at pel lee t liberty 
through everlasting day ! 



MEDITATION XXXVIII. 

The prophets deseriplion of the iv^lcJtcJ. 

Kow just, how adequate, hcAV expressive the divine 
description, ** The wicked are like the tro;ibied ocean, 
when it cannot rest, whose waiters cast forth mire and 
dirt I" Wheli th<^ tides buve l-eeir?ed their wreck- on ihr 



THE THAYELLER. 135 

i.nmosi shores, and in the ebb have left the smoothed 
sand, all looks gay, and one would think the bottom ot* 
the ocean is swept, and washed of all its wrecks and 
weeds; but the next tide proves my conjecture false, and 
spreads a fresh proof of my deception on the shore : Just 
so it is with the wicked , when I think they might have 
emptied themselves of oaths, imprecations, and filthy 
communications, accomplished their wickedness, brought 
forth all their vileness, and wearieil themselves in com- 
mitting sin, yet, without intermission, they proceed from 
evil to worse. 

As there is a continual growth of weeds, and accession 
of other wrecks, every tide, therefore, spues out mire 
and dirt ; so, out of the evil treasure of the heart, evil 
things continually proceed. But the civilized sinner has 
nothing to boast : for, though his words may not be so 
vile as those of abandoned wretches, yet, as they pour 
from the carnal mind, and the carnal mind being enmity 
against God, can produce nothing pleasing in his sight, 
so they are vile before God : Therefore, though not so 
disagreeable in a sober ear, as the profane swearer, ob- 
scene talker, or unprofitable jester, yet, not coming from 
a sanctified heart, are accounted sin in his eye, who ispu* 
rity itself, and with a pleasant countenance beholdeth the 
upright. 

Sometimes the raging seas ebb, and leave their shores 
clean and comely, but," all of a sudden, they return with 
fresh defilement, and scatter over them mire and dirt. 
Even so have I seen some persons, by a temporary repen- 
tance, appear to forsake their former courses and to lead 
a new life, but, all of a sudden, like a spring-tide, their 
wickedness breaks out with greater violence than ever, 
and the last state of that man is worse than the first. 

As nothing less than the voice of the Almighty can 
calm the restless ocean, and say to the raging sea, Peace, 
be still ; so nothing less than infinite power (let not mor- 
tals presume, let not sinners despair) can convert trans- 
gressors, and m?\ke their heart prcci.uus as a spring shut 
up, pleasant as a fountain sealed. 




iS6 THE TRATELLEK. 

MEDITATION XXXIX, 

On the patience of God with sinners. 

Off France, June £7, 1T58. 

Verily tliou art God, that thus bearest with the 
wickedness of men, though of purer eyes than to behold 
iniquity. Did our superior officers meet with equal dis- 
obedience to their mandates, the same irreverence, con- 
tumely and reproach to their very face, from these aban- 
43oned wretches, would they put up therewith ? No ; 
death, or some dreadful punishment, would suddenly be 
inflicted on the daring transgressors. God will be glori- 
fied in the bright display of all his divine perfections ; 
and the desperate madness of sinners against the heavens, 
and their blasphemous talk against the most High, can- 
not prevail with him to change his purpose, and punish 
them before the time appointed, because he is God : 
Nor shall their miseries and bemoaning, their anguish 
and their intreaties, make him spare them a moment lon- 
ger, when the appointed day comes, or mitigate their 
torments, because he is God. A thousand years are with 
God but as one day, seeing all eternity is his immoveable 
NOW. Now, what are the few unhappy years of a 
thoughtless desperado's life, but as a few moments to a 
criminal betwixt his sentence and execution? So God 
will fill up the measure of his patience; and if they fill 
up the measure of their sin, in the time of God's patience, 
his justice shall fill up the measure of their punishment ia 
the day tiiat his thundering right hand shall cast the 
strength of his fury and fiery indignation on them for 
ever. He is silent now in the day of his long-suffering, 
and they will not hear the voice of his goodness ; but he 
will loudly accost them in the day of his anger, and they 
shall hear the thunders of his wrath. God, by his long- 
suffering, has a double work on the wheel, his wrath to 
shew, and his power to make known on the vessiels of 
wrath, thereby fitted to destruction ; and the riches of 
his glory, to make known on the vessels of mercy, wh» 
are thus prepared for glory. Let the sinner acknowledge 
the patience of God, and be led to re|>entancc ; and the 



THE lIlA.Tir,LLl£R. 13T 

saint adoi-e the patience of God, and be encouraged to 
perseverance; and may God be glorified in all his divine 
perfections. 



MEDITATION XL. 

On the excdlerwy of the Christian religion above the Jew- 
ish, vnth respect to a Traveller. 

Off France, June 28, 1758. 

The Jewish religion conpisted in a noble and erablem- 
atical assemblage of rites and ceremonies, which, though 
,sjlorious, was to give place to that religion which could 
.boast of a triumphant majesty, a supereminent glory, and 
permanent duration. That was attended with external 
pomp and grandeur, the beauty of this lies in its simplici- 
ty and spirituality. 

How uncdmfortabk w^ere my sitoatioii here, if I could 
not approach the altar that sanctifies the gift withcut be- 
ing seen, praiso God without the high- sounding cymbal, 
psaltery, or harp, and otfer up to God my sacrifice in 
mine own breast! If I could not be sprinkled with the 
blood of cleansing, without the high-priest using all the 
round of ceremonies I if I could not repent, and be ac- 
counted clean, witliout external Vv-ashings, and if I beho- 
ved to look towards Jerusalem, in my adorations 1 But, 
as a Christian, I may pray every v^^here, and, even in the 
midst of the unclea.i, may oiler up my sacrifice of mental 
p-raise ; yea, to God who sees in secret, and kno\vs the 
• heart, I may pray in secret : or, when that is denied, I 
may in ray own heart pour out to him my supplication, 
and, in the midst of confusion, may meditate on his glory 
and goodness. And, as I may thus freely come to him, 
wherever I am. so he whose fire of old came do^vn, and 
consumed the sacrifice on the altar, in mercy can come 
to me, and kindle a flame of love in my soul, and speak 
kindly to me, from off the invisible mercy-seat, Christ 
Jesus. Then there is one perfect sacrifice which, every 
where, and ahvays, I shall keep in eye ; one fountain at 
vliich I (ghall always wash ; one Intercessor, and great 

M 2 



ioh THE TJRArilLLtR. '' 

Higl>Prifist, vvlioin I shall always employ, and through 
whom I shall geek access to God, waithig to he blessed at 
last in the full enjoyment of God, Father, Son, and Holy 
Ghost, Avorld without end. 



MEDITATION XLI. 

Coasting along another king^s dominions. 

Under sail^ July 1, 1758. 

The contented swain may travel far and near, yea, 
Kve and die in his own king's dominions ; but a fair wind 
may soon fetch him that plows the flowing ocean, where 
his sovereign cannot claim an inch of land, or if he stands 
to sea, he may soon find himself distant from all shores, in 
an unmeasurable world of waters, which owns no supe- 
rior but Him who formed the sea and the dry land. I 
may offend ray prince here, and yet fly out of his reach, 
and bid defiance to his rage ; but if I sin against God, 
whither shall I fly for help, or how shall I escape ? Bri- 
tain and India are alike before him, height and depth 
are in his hand, arid distance, w^hich only bears relation 
to creatures, bears none to the Creator who is eveiy 
w^here present, and filleth all in all. I may sooner de- 
prive a rational being of self-consciowsness, or hide me 
from myself, than keep concealed from Omniscience. 

Would a king or an emperor, travel round the globe, 
maijy times he would find himself in kingdoms where he 
could claim no interest ; but if I belong to God, I can 
claim his providence and protection in every dominion, 
and in every land. How well pleased would a young 
prince be, to travel home, in the dress of a stranger, 
through the extensive dominions of his royal father! 
Could he quarrel at hard usage, the homely fare, and the 
mean lodgings he must put up with by the way ? Would 
it not quiet and content him under all, to call to mind 
that he is travelling home to the palace of his royal sire, 
where he should be welcomed by the loud acclamations of 
a splendid court, and embraced by the king himself? 
After this manner, w^hile on his journey, would he ad- 
dress himself : *' Though I pass as a stranger in these 
remote parts of my Mkf.rh poj-rNe^sioii^. and nnfbserved, 



THE TRAVEjLLE^. 139 

because it is not as yet proper in the eyes of the king 
that I should be clothed in princely attire, yet, how am 
I delighted that all these kingdoms are under his govern- 
ment, tremble at his frown, and own his sovereignty " 
and though I now seem poorer thaa many of his subjects 
in these provinces, who have small estates in hand, yet 
I am so happy in the nobleness of my descent, in the dig- 
nity of my relations, in the propect of my futurer great- 
ness, and approaching gk>ry, that I would not change 
states with any of them ; for, on the day appointed 
for my coronation, by the mighty sovereign, to whom I 
am so nearly related, I shall," in the sight of assembled 
thousands, receive a sceptre, and a crown." Even so, the 
saints are in all respects the happy ones, for the universe 
belongs to him who has a care of them. Distant climates, 
therefore, need not look strange to them, for, if they 
live near God, they can never be far from home. 



.MEDITATION XLII. 

On hearing from friends,' 

St. Heleivs, July 5, 1758. 

He that has not left his affections and care in his native 
country, as well as his friends, is not a little refreshed by 
frequent accounts from them, that they are alive, and in 
prosperity. But all this will not satisfy him that sore 
longeth to see his near relation, and his native country, 
after being long absent from it. A thousand letters, 
written with all the tenderness of a father, enibellished 
with all the rhetoric of paternal endearments, must give 
place to an hour's conversation, mouth to mouth, with 
that father whose kind and affectionate letters increased 
the filial regard, with that mother whose continual prayers 
and good wishes, have strengthened the affection of her 
son. Nothing less than seeing them face to face, talking 
with them friendly and freely^ hearing all their state, and 
learning of all their welfare, can satisfy his longing, and 
quiet hVs straggling breast. 

Even so, nothing can fully satisfy the desires of the 
soul that is born from above, and is a native of the better 



140 THE TRAVELLER. 

country, but the immediate vision of God. Ail he re- 
ceives belov/, only begets a disquietude in his soul, (but 
such a disquietude as delight§) that cannot be at rest till 
wafted to the fruition of God. The brighter his views 
of heavenly things, the more ardent his wishes for the 
possession of them. Hence, says the aged, the experien- 
ced, and great Apostle Paul, who had been caught up 
into the third heaven, carried into paradise, and heard 
the unutterable language of bliss, *'I have a desire to de- 
part, and to be with Christ." 

All the bright displays of the glory and goodness of 
God, which saints enjoy below, compared ^\ ith what i? 
reserved for eternity, is only a sight of his back parts. 
Now let us see the import of the metaphor : The face is 
like the fair epitome of the whole man, so that limners 
commonly draw no more than the countenance ; the face 
turned away denotes indignation, but bright and smiling 
is a sign of favour ; and again, the countenance is like 
the index of the mind, where we can see clouds gather, 
and tempests break, or pe9Lce and tranquillity within. 
Accordingly, we hav^e these expressions in scripture, 
" Blessed are the people that walk in the light of thy 
countenance : Cause thy face to shine on us : Thou didst 
hide thy face, and I was troubled : Neither will 1 hide my 
face any more from them : As for me I shall behold thy 
face in righteousness." What, then, must the consum- 
mate happiness of that state be, where we shall see Go4 
face to face I 

Then, Lord, the most that I can find below, is but a 
crumb to the banquet above. When thy appointed time 
comes, with what joy will I leave all these merciful com- 
munications of tliy grace and good will, conveyed through 
thy word and ordinances (which, like letters of favour, 
assure me of the affection of mine exalted Head, and 
cheer me in the house of my pilgrimage) and go home to 
eternal, uninterrupted communion with thee I When, 
dear Lord, may my lo%-e and longing ask. When shall I 
see the face of my Beloved, that face that is fairer than 
the sun ? When shall all the vast expectations of my 
faith be realized in glory ? When shall my well-beloved 
who is unto me as a bundle of myrrh, lie, not for a 
short night, hut through an endless day between ray 
breafts ? Wiien shall dTstanre be none a\ray, 1 hat I may 



THE TRAVELLEB. 141 

approach thee, and never more be debarred from thy 
throne ? When shall my soul, all eye, tix for eternity 
on thy excellent glory ? As yet, I have only seen some 
passing glimpses of thy back parts; hut there is an abi- 
ding, permanent, assimilating gaze on thy gloriouscoun- 
tenance, which shall crown my felicity through endless 
ages. May not the soul that is espoused to that glorious 
Husband, who is the chiefest among ten thousand, long 
to see her husband, long for the marriage supper of the 
Lamb, and weary^ for the day of being brought home, to 
be for ever in his presence ? Surely, were my love to 
him more, I should long more for him ; but I am ready to 
take up with other lovers in his absence. The world, and 
the things of time, are busy to cool mine affection to the 
sacred suitor, the divine and unchangeable lover; but 
hence, all things that would divert my flaijie from him 
who is altogether lovely. When shall these eyes see him 
for myself, and not for another ? I am like one born abroad, 
that has never seen his father, nor his friends ; but am 
travelling home, and shall never be happy till I be with 
my best Friend. I have heard of thee by the hearing of 
the ear, and the account has comforted my soul ; but now 
J long to see thee with my eye, and be for ever ravished 
with the heavenly vision. Surely at my arrival at thy 
throne, O gracious Redeemer ! Avhen I shall see thy won- 
derful ascent to it, even by sufferings, the standing of thy 
saints about it, the apparel and entertainment of thy cho- 
sen ones, and all thy other glories, I shall know then 
that all the account which I ever heard falls infinitely 
short of thy majesty and glory. Let it, then, comfort 
me, that in a iittle thou shalt fulfil my request, satisfy ray 
longing, and bring me home to be forever with the Lord. 



MEDITATION XLin. 

On the well of the ship, 

Spithead, July 7, 1758. 

One might he surprised, that when the ship admits very 
little water within, they should by a pipe from the ocean 
convey such a quantity, that the pump must be set a,- 
work before it can be cast out again : Yet the device is 



142 THE YRAVELLEiJ. 

highly praifc-worthy ; for thus the corrupted, stinking, 
and poisonous dregs, are cast out, which, without this 
large addition of water, Avoiild never come within the 
stroke of the chain-pump, but would grow intolerably 
putrid, as it is well known to discolour solid metals, and 
affect every thing near it. Even so, original sin is that 
poison that lies deep within, contaminates all around, 
whose 'filth defiles all the powers of the mind, all the 
members of the body, and whose guilt makes the whole 
man obnoxious to all the miseries of ti^e, to all the tor- 
ments of hell. Again, sometimes Heaven is pleased to 
permit a person to fall into gross outbreaking?, that there- 
by he may be led to see the corruption of his nature, and 
to bewail the spring from which such deadly streams pro- 
ceed. Tlius the psabr;ij;t confesses, that he, as well as all 
mankind, was conceived in sin, and born in iniquity. 
And Vv herever saving grace is displayed in subduing sin, 
there also the guilt of original sin is forgiven, and its filth 
taken away. 

It is very remarkable, that God refines bis own people, 
not only by afilictions, judgments, and mercies, but by 
sins ; thus sometimes the air is purified by a thunder- 
stonn : Hence, says God by the prophet Ezekiel, xiv. 9. 
and 11. *'If a prophet be deceived, I have deceived that 
prophet, and the people that seek to him are also decei- 
ved, and they shall bear the punishment of their iniqui- 
ty." Now, for what end is a prophet permitted to speak 
lies, and the people to seek to a lying prophet ? That they 
might go no more astray, pollute his holy name no more, 
but that he might be their God, and they might be his 
people.. Thus, Peter's pride and self-confidence is so cu- 
red by his denial of Christ, that when Jesus, after his 
resurrection puts to him a kindly question, " Simon, sou 
of Jonas, love?t thou me ?" he dares not say, as- formerly, 
O Lord, my love is such thatlcan die for thee, but hum- 
bly appeals to himself, " Thou knowest that I love thee." 
Our Lord repeats the question, and he returns the same 
answer; but a third time puts him to pain, ' Does my 
Lord distrust my love, doth he suspect its sincerity ?' It 
is true alas I I have denied him, and he knows me better 
than I do myself ; but my heart, conscious of sincerity, 
appeals to hisomnisciency, " Thou that knowest ail thing^^ 
knowest that I love thee." 



THE TRAYELLER. 14S 

Moreover, the daily experience of the saints will at- 
test, that all their lifetime they hate and abhor that sin 
most by which they have most dishonoured God, and 
W'ounded their own souls. Alas I what daily cause have 
I to mourn over my depravity, whose life is blackened 
with daily outbreakings from this fountain that defiles! 
Hence so many vain thoughts, and low apprehensions of 
tlie holiness and majesty of (rod ; hence so many trilling 
delights; hence such an eager pursuit of perishing plea- 
sures, and polluted joys, which, on a narrow survey, and 
serious thought, I must throw^ all away. 

But, such is the wonderful method of Him, whose ways 
are past finding out, that he saves by casting away, 
brings through hell to heaven ; and, by one sin breaking 
©ut, makes the soul hate and abhor, fight and watch 
against all sin, and have daily recourse to the blood of 
sprinkling, and to the Spirit of all grace for divine assis- 
tance. 



MEDITATION ;KLIV. 

The company of the wicked,' 

Spiihead^ July 8, 1T58, 

When for our continual company we have tiie wicked, 
we cannot but continue our lamentation, and repeat our 
complaint, " Wo is me that I sojourn in Mesech, and 
dwell in the tents of Kedar." AVhen I have considered 
the carnal men, who know nothing of the power of reli- 
gion, and the abandoned wretches, who have not even the 
appearance of religion, how should I esteem the compa- 
ny of saints here below, and the communion of the glo- 
rious hosts above! When the day of my dissolution 
comes, how shall I be transported to find myself among 
an assembly of sanctified ones, where religion, in its puri- 
ty, is their eternal theme ? Not an idle word among ait 
the amazing multitude, nor one vain thought among the 
vast concourse I Their society is improving, and their 
«'.onversation shall comfort for ever. No doubt but the 
w ickedness of the present >\'orld will to the saints sw'eet- 
ert tjhe srmctity of the world to come : and their own cor- 



144 , THE TRAVELLER. 

ruption, from vrhich they cannot wholly rid themselves 
now, dignify that noble change, when corruptible shall 
put on incorruption, and mortality be swallowed up of 
life; so will their imperfect graces aggrandize their per- 
fection in glory. What, then, shall be my happiness 
when my fellow saints shall be spotless flames of love, 
and I adore with them in the unity of the Spirit, in the 
bond of perfect and perpetual peace I when the moving 
of their tongues in the praises of my dearest Lord, shall 
assuage all my former grief, and charm my ravished ear ! 
when every soul shall attempt the loudest song, and high- 
est encomium on our best Beloved ! and when among the 
adoring throng, not one sinner, which are now so nume- 
rous, nay, not one hypocrite shall stand ! O how shall 
we speak to one another of Him who is altogether lovely, 
and being transformed into his likeness, how amiable and 
agreeable shall we be to one another! For, like lines in 
a circle pointing to the centre, the nearer to which they 
come, the nearer to others they approach, till running 
into the c^tre, they unite in one another; Just so, dwel- 
ling in Christ,, we shall be united to one another in lov^e- 
Then I shall not only be Iree from my wicked company, 
but from every thing in my soul that can disquiet or give 
pain. No pollution from without, no corruption within, 
but all is perfect sanctity. O triumphant state of perfect 
liberty ! where my companions shall not, as now, drive 
me from God, but as it were, draw me to the very thrcne : 
*' Come, let us worship the Lord ; I will go also." The 
forethought of that happy state shall comfort me till Ike 
days of my mourning be ended. 



MEDITATION XLV. 

On aicaking at Midnight. 

Now the silent night spreads its shadows on all, and 
calms the uneasy crew, who are locked fast in sleep, ex- 
cept those who are on duty ; and never are they less of- 
fensive to God or men, than when in slumbers. 

In a little, the busy world shall be awaked to pursue 
the affairs of life ; but the greater part, in respect of spi* 



THE tRAVEtLERi 143 

ritual things, are fast asleep, yea chained among the dead ; 
hence says the apostle, "Awake thou that sleepest, and 
arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.'' 

Amidst the blackest gloom that dwells on midnight 
with respect to the natural eye, the soul is at no loss to 
vieAV immaterial beings by the eye of her understanding, 
and to behold her supreme good by the eye of faith. Yea, 
a day dwells within the soul that is enlightened from 
above, even while shades of darkness surround the body ; 
and this day is much more beautiful than the brightest 
sun-shine to the naked eye. 

Though, through ignorance, I thought that all had 
been darkness in the universe till the sun was kindled up, 
yet I see that even then all was bright, unbounded, and 
eternal day ; because God is light, and in him is no dark- 
ness, and he filleth all in all. But when God was pleased 
to bespangle a little track, a foot-breadth or two of space, 
with various globes, and on some of them to form crea- 
tures with bodily organs, which needed a material medi- 
um to judge of sensible objects, in this respect, " dark- 
ness was on the face of the deep ;" for their comfort he 
created the light ; and from the light he formed the sun, 
to illuminate the body : being still himself, the infinitely 
more glorious Light of the mind, so that whenever he is 
pleased to display himself in a special manner, the sun is 
darkened at his presence, as befel Paul when favoured 
with the heavenly vision. Now, had all been created 
spirits, like the angels, there had been no need for natu- 
ral light, for the Father of spirits is to them the Foun- 
tain of light; and sometimes they have brought such a 
brightness with them from the throne of glory (like Mo- 
ses when he came down from the mount of God) such a 
felaze of light spreading round about, as has amazed the 
astonished spectators. Thus neither the natural darkness 
of the night, nor the thick darkness, of sorrow, affliction, 
and woe, nor the pitchy darkness of death, shall spread 
a shade over those who have his presence, diifusing sere- 
nest noon in their souls wherever they go ; as, on the 
©ther hand, the fallen angels, cast out of his favourable 
presence, are kept in chains of darkness, though allowed 
to roam over this universe in the noon-day beamings of 
the natural mn. 



j4G the travelleh. 

Again, a man may enjoy the light of life, and bask 
iiimself in the pleasant beams of affluence and peace, 
while nothing but a dark and stormy night surrounds hia 
soul. As the evening-shadows mantle the world, so they 
produce a silence and tranquillity over all : but the dark- 
ness thax seizes the soul from an angry or concealed God, 
awakens the keenest anguish, and pours storms and tem- 
pests in all the powers of the mind, which raise this com- 
plaint, " Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled.'' 
But what comfort may it yield me, that, though the 
nights seem long, the darkness thick, the tempests loud, 
and the thunders terrible, the Sun is on his way, will short- 
ly rise, and afford eternal day I that I shall walk in the 
light of his countenance, and in his light see light clear- 
ly ! Then, and not till then, '* shall mine age be clearer 
than the noon-day, and I shall shine forth, and be as the 
morning." 



MEDITATION XL VI. 

On one cursing and swearing at an affront. 

Spithead, July 10, 1758. 

This discloses to me the dreadful confusion and deplo- 
rable passion which the wicked shall be put into at the 
tremendous bar ! Hear that poor wretch, for a matter of 
no moment compared to his eternal felicity, roars, rages, 
foams, and blasphemes. What surprising, chilling, and 
unheard-of oaths, even where oaths are too much heard 
every day, pursue one another in his fiendlike fury? 
Scarce can he tell what troubles him for belching out hi- 
deous, horrid, and uncommon oaths, protestations, and 
imprecations, not to be allowed to return ever into the 
memory again but in a way of deploration. 

Now, if such be the language of sinners on earth, what 
shall be their dialect in hell, when they shall turn their 
blasphemies against the bkssed, but tremendous Avenger 
himself ! when their kindling eyes shall swell with fury ! 
Here they curse others, or invoke damnation on them- 
selves ; but then and there, they shall blaspheme God 
for Ids burning indignation, and, in perpetual rage and 



THE TRAVELLEIi. 147 

fury, rise up against incensed Omnipotence itself; and 
this shall inciease their torment, that they madly oppose 
their feeble power, and unsubdued enmity, against the 
infinite afflictor, whereby they, as it were, approve of 
their old relll^llion against their rightful Lord, and make 
it evident that he is just when he condemns and punishes 
his foes. But O what a countenance will they put on, 
what passion, what revenge, what anguish, what rage, 
what horror, what burning envy in their soul, what roll- 
ing eyes, and trembling joints, what tomienting confu- 
sion of thought, what terrible disquiet, and consummate 
despair, will tear and prey on them for ever ! Against 
whom will they stamp, frown, storm, and foam, like this 
desperado ? Whom \v\\\ they threaten? God, their eter- 
nal foe, is far above their reach, holds them down in chains 
of everlasting wrath, and roars against them with the 
thunders of his right hand for ever. 

Now", as I heard expressions terribjy strange, and oaths 
to me entirely new (which I pray may be so for ever, and 
never grate my ear again) from hence I infer, that the 
blasphemies of the damned, now past all hope, and filled 
with unrelenting enmity, are so extremely and inconcei- 
vably dreadful, so excessiv ely horrid, that the most aban- 
doned swearer, the master of the newest and blackest 
blasphemies on earth, comes not near them ; just as the 
shai'pest pains we feel in time, bear no proportion to the 
excruciating torments of the damned. This desperado's 
passion assuages by little and little, and he becomes him- 
self by degrees ; but there their passioa and tumult ever 
grows, even against God. Their soul abhors him, and 
his soul also loathes them. O then to be wise, and learn 
wisdom from every thing I see ! 



MEDITATION XLYU. 

Godh equity in the eternity of torment, 

'^-- July 10, 1758. 

Man is daringly bold to find fault with God, and tell 
him to his face, that his ways are not equal. To make a 
creature only to be miserable for some small offence, to 



148 tHE TBAVELLBR. 

make a creature to be damned, they think is not just in a 
Being said to be infinitely just ; or to pu>ish a few fol- 
lies in frail man, the extravagancies of a few days with 
eternal wrath, and the failings of a finite creature, that 
is crushed before the moth, with the whole collected fu- 
ry of an Omnipotent God, an Almighty Avenger. 

As to the first, God creates not to destroy, but still de- 
lighteth in mercy ; yet, before any creatures rob him of 
his glory by a course of sin, he will magnify himself in 
their damnation. Again, shall the man that derides reve- 
lation, scorns to search the word of truth, contemns coun- 
sel, casts instruction behind his back, hates him that re- 
proveth sins against his light, wUl not hearken to the re^ 
proofs of conscience, but runs into all sin with precipi- 
tance, and commits wickedness with greediness, dragging 
as many as he can with him to hell ; — shall such a wretch 
(and generally such they are who have these sorry and 
pitiful pleas) talk of mercy ? Would he have God to take 
him, sin and all to heaven, who would not forsake his sin . 
for heaven, nor cease from wickedness for God ? Those 
who will not receive mercy, who will not have a gift of 
salvation on God's terms, and in God's time, must expect 
damnation from him in due time, which shall measure 
with eternity. 

I have, for a long time, been convinced of the punish- 
ment for sin being infinite (as far as creatures can sus- 
tain) and eternal, on account of the infinite Majesty 
against whom it was committed ; because it is impossible 
for finite creatures, who despise the satisfaction provided 
by God, to satisfy in their own persons for one sin ; and 
because the sinner continues, even in torment, the ene- 
my of God and righteousness. But now I see another 
thing, even that punishment, infinite and eternal, is n© 
more than the just reward of their sin ; for the sinner 
employs all his thoughts, exerts all his might, and goes 
to the very utmost of his finite omnipotence (may I use 
the expression ?) against God. By his power, had he 
power equal to his impious inclinations, he would des- 
troy righteousness out of the world, just as he does in hi& 
own breast ; yeat, could he effect it, he would pull the 
angels out of heaven, who daily tears the morad law in 
pieces ; nay, could he rise in power, he would contend 
even with tbe Almighty, and take the government of 



THE TRAVELLEB. 149 

heaven aijcl earth out of his hands who will not let God 
govern his poor insignificant self. Now, is it not no 
more than strict justice in God to punish to the uttermost 
of his power, those who sin against him to the uttermost 
of their power ; and not to repent in casting the fury of 
his wrath on them who, in their sinning against him, 
knew no repentance? Moreover, is it not equitable 
with God to punish those as long as he lives, who sinned 
against him as long as they lived ? So may an earthly 
king condemn to perpetual imprisonment a rebel c-r a 
regicide. Again, though their life was short and passing, 
yet how did they spend it, every moment of it, in abom- 
inable sin ! and since they spend the eternity of their 
life (might I a^jain use the expression i*) against God, 
and would never cease to offend the everlasting Jeliovab, 
were they to continue in their present state to perpetui- 
ty ; therefore it is but just that he should punish them 
through the eternity of his existence. Finally, sinner? 
have no grounds of excuse or complaint left, being well 
apprised of their danger in time, and therefore shall, 
through an eternity of torment, confess that their own 
ways have been unequal, but that God is just and equal 
in all his wavs. 



MEDITATION XL VIII. 

InstructiGnsfrom the commanications of the ivickecL 
Spithead, July 12, 1T58. 

Sure, if ever grace dwelt in my soul, if ever I wai 
among the saints I have been to blame, that had nothing 
to utter in commendation of religion, nothing to say in 
honour of God ; or if I dropt a word or two, that I drew 
it not out into a discourse, and dwelt not longer on the 
theme ; but if ever providence permit me to breathe again 
in the fragrant air of converse with the godly, I think I 
shall be more open hearted than ever I have been. For- 
give me. Heaven ; forgive me, saints ; forgive me, sin- 
ners, who knows what good a good word might have 
done some of you ; forgive me, ray own conscience ; 
and as I cannot excuse myself for time past, for opportu- 
nities lost, let me be more watchful in all time coming. 

T am instriiotetl t9 this by the open profanity of the 



150 THE TRAVELLED ^ 

wickeJ. They are not ashamed to speak and talk in a 
strain which we would think the fiends of hell could not 
go beyond- They expose their secret sins in a manner 
which might make ordinary sinneri blush. How soon 
they reveal their wickedness to one another, and let it be 
known to what society they belong, by baseness in the 
extreme ! and shall thou, O saint I and I, when we shall 
meet not let it be known that we are heirs of the same 
promise, soldiers under the same colours, combatants an 
the same cause, servants of the same Lord, disciples of the 
same master, and expectants of the same glory ? It is 
true, religion is a secret thing ; its duties are to be per- 
formed in the closet, not in the street, and He who sees 
in secret will at the last day reward us ©penly. Again, 
we who bear the Christian riame choose to be silent too 
often on serious matters, lest at any time, by gross out- 
breaking, we become a scandal to religion ; or those who 
have not the root of the matter in them scandalize us for 
our religion. But as these wicked ones are under no re- 
straint in their profanity, shall we, who make so high 
profession, be altogether silent on serious subjects? They 
avow their God, who is the god of this world ; and shall 
we not avouch the Lord for our God ? They are of their 
father the d^vil, and do his works ; and shall we not 
walk in the name of the Lord our God for ever and ever ? 
Is not our Master more honourable, our service more no- 
ble, our encouragement more powerful, our reward more 
certain, our associates more eligible, and our delights and 
pleasures moie permanent and divine, than all the wick- 
ed can boast of ? Why then not talk to one another of 
the excellencies of our great Lord, his kindness to his ser- 
vants, what befalls us in our pilgrimage, the surprising- 
providences of our life, and the outlettings of his love to 
our souls ? " Come, hear, all ye that fear God, and I will 
tell you what he hath done for my soul," said the psalm- 
ist; and have we nothing to tell, no w^ords wherewith 
we .may comfort one another ? Yea, we should speak in 
commendation of religion to all ; for whoever mock, stili 
wisdom is justified of her children; and seoflf who will . 
we ought to ^o our duty. Then, in my present situation, 
all mine communings must be with my own heart ; I must 
talk with myself, but must be silent to others ; yet I may 
^ake piy prayer to the Gotl of my life^ express my trou^ 



T?HE TRAVELLER. 131 

hit to liim, and pour out my coraplaint liefore him, plea- 
ding, that as the years are full of evil, and the days of 
grief, so he may comfort me. 



MEDITATION XLIX. 

Sorrow for sin a sign of grace* 

Spithead, July 13, 1T58. 

Surely I am not so zealous for tlie God of heaven as 
I ought to be. Had I this day received an affront, or had 
any spit in my face, would not the affront go to bed with 
me, sleep and wake with me, yea, disturb me of my sleep ? 
Where is, then, my zeal for God, that 1 can quietly go 
to rest, and with an easy mind, when I see and know 
sinners avowedly wound the glory of God, spit in the 
face of Divine majesty ; daringly break all thy command- 
ments, think thy precepts are a jest, trample on thy re- 
proof, laugh at thy threatenings, brave thy thunders, and 
defy thy wrath? While their practice is so cursed, 
should my spirit be so unconcerned ? Should the loyal 
subject be quiet and still when he knows a plot of rebel- 
lion is forming against his king, by whom he is maintain- 
ed, yea, beloved? Then, what shall I say of these obdu- 
rate sinners? I complain against them to thee; IJiate 
their conduct, i lament their infatuation and deplore 
their case. The day is conscious of their crimes, the 
night attests their debauches. I deplore and protest 
against a-l tbeir oaths and profanity, their obscenity and 
vilene?s, iheir Sabbath-breaking, and all their other abo- 
niinations. They fly from thee in the day of thy grace, 
and shall bo punished with everlasting destruction from 
tliee, and the glory of thy power, in the day of judgment. 
May thy honor never be less valued by me, nor I less 
grieved for the wounding thereof, that so inany value it 
so little. May sin never become less odious to me by be- 
ing committed before me ; and let ray sorrow for sin in 
others testify my innocence, and that I have no delight 
therein, v/hiie my soul shall mourn in secn'ct places foi- 
^bf«m -•ho hate holin-essand love dea{h. 



15^ THE THAVELLER. 

MEDITATION t. 

On hearing a rumor of peace, 

Spithead, July 19, 1T58. 

With what a cheerful countenance did the greater 
part appear to hear the report of peace! These poor fel- 
lows, some of whom were impressed to the field, some to 
the fleet, now worn out with war, and long absent from 
their nearest relation?, and their dearest friends, exult at 
the very thought of peace,' and feel an inward satisfac- 
tion that refreshes every power. Plow then, O my soul I 
who art engaged in a more cruel w^ar, carried on by more 
bloody foes, pursued Avithout intermission, with all the 
rage of the roaring lion, the cunning of the old serpent, 
and vigilance of the pit, the issue of w^hich is of much 
greater moment than the struggles for empire, or the strife 
of kings ; how shouldst thou rejoice at that eternal peace 
which shall take place when all thy foes shall fall before 
thee, and death, the last enemy, shall be destroyed for 
ever ! Then thou shalt not only quit the field with safeiy 
and honor, but come off more than conqueror through 
him that loved thee I 

Are men so fond to quit the martial plain, and taste 
the sweets of peace ! What mad q ess then by sin to rise in 
rebellion against Heaven, and maintain a war against 
^ God, to run on the thick bosses of his buckler, and defy 
Omnipotence himself, who can crush w'orlds with a frown, 
and punish the most stubborn offenders ! 

How^ pleasant for the man that has been often in dan- 
ger and death, who has long heard the sound of the 
trumpet, the alarm of war, who has been covered W'ith 
wounds and blood, and been daily beset by cruel blood- 
thirsty foes, to dwell in peace, and walk at safety, to 
heighten his present happiness by the remembrance of 
his past danger, assured that he shall never niore be in a 
state of war, but spend his days in peace and quiet. Even 
so, the soul that has been often in danger from spiritual 
death, has long heard the sound of Sinai^s trumpets, the 
curses of the fiery law, and v^'ar denouuced from Jehovah's 
throne, hers not only been ?ore buffeted and wounded. 



THE TRAVELLER. 155 

but accounted itself free among the dead, being daily be- 
set by sin, and its outbreakings, Satan and his tempta- 
tions ; how sweet for such a soul to be filled with peace 
and joy in believing, to have the intimation of paHoned 
sin, and acceptance through the Beloved ; and, instead 
of storms and tempests from Sinai, to have the blessing 
out of Zion ; in a word, to have the full assurance of 
unchangeable love, and endless felicity, and that, in a 
little, all the enemies of his salvation, as they are now 
chained, so shall never vex him more, but he shall sing 
riches of grace, and the righteousnes of Jesus, world 
without end. 



MEDITATION LI. 

The noble principle. 

Spithead, July 19, 1758. 

Now I am distant from all my religious acquaintance 
and civilized friends, who might be a check upon me ; 
and, what is worse, I am out of the church, therefore out 
of the reach of her discipline ; but what is worst of all, 
I am where religion is a stranger, and is voted to have no 
interest on the element of water. Here it is social to be 
wicked, and profanity and impiety are supported at the 
expence of all that is sacred or valuable. Here shame is 
laid aside, brazen impudence is worn on every brow, and 
he that departs from iniquity becomes a prey to ridicule 
and scoff. Yet, for all this, how can I commit wicked- 
ness, and sin against God ? Shall I not improve this op- 
portunity, put into my hand, to witness for religion 
against all their vileness, and to strike a terror into the 
most abandoned ; as there is no conscience that slumbers 
so securely, but there are now and then clamors rising 
within ? 

What thanks to me to be for God among his saints, 
where for very shame I dare not be against him ? But 
surely it is commendable, when called in providence to 
be among those among whom satan has his seat, not o»= 
ly to abstain from the sins in which they revel, but to 
oppose, to reprove, to let my hatred of the vices whidi 



1^4 THE TRATELLER. 

they admire, be known, and not to drop my testimony 
against sin, though with sinners I prev^ail nothing ; for 
though our diligence be not successful, our duty must not 
be slackened. The sinner mistakes the matter, for he 
thinks he has liberty to sin in one situation more than iji 
another: but it mightily aggravates his wickedness, be- 
cause he carries not the awe and belief of God's omni- 
presence every where. "Were he at home, no man more 
civil than he. But the eye of man prevails more with 
him than the omniscience of God ; for when he leaves his 
friends and native land, he leaves the fear of God also 
(that is, the form of godliness, for he never knew the 
power thereof) and rushes into sin wherever he goes, 
liike the ignorant Syrians, he thinks that God is a God 
of the hills, but not of the vallies, a God of the land 
but not of the sea ; and thus, when he casts off men by 
distance, he sets God also at a distance, and the divine 
law at defiance : but, to his endless remorse, he shall know 
that God seeth, not only under the whole heaven, but 
through the whole heart ; and fiUeth not only tinie, but 
eternity itself. 

As no grateful soul could injure a generous friend 
though he could never know it ; so, for my part, I would 
not sin against God, even supposing that he could not 
know it. How should I forget thy tender mercies, thy 
love, thy compassion, thy kindness, and supporting grace ! 
How should I sin against thy holiness, offeml my best, 
my never-failing friend, wound my conscience, slay my 
soul, and trample on thy glory ! Thou art ever in the 
heart that love^ thee, and thou wilt bring them that wil- 
lingly forget thee to a remembrance of thy omnipresence 
by the down-pouring of thy dreadful wrath. If nothing 
but the eye of man be on the mind, it will make but small 
impression, and the impression will be quickly gone ; but 
I can never hide me from Heaven, nor conceal myself 
from my own conscience. 

Moreover I am bound to be for God by many ties. O 
how shall I honour him whom all dishonour, and appear 
for him when all appear against him ! In the time that I 
may appear alone for him, I should not loose the oppoi'- 
tunity which may never be put into my hand again. 
How then should I love him whom the sons of men re- 
fuse to love ; and hate^in the more that men hate it so 



THE TRAVELLER. 155 

Httle ! Surely my zeal should be the warmer that men 
have lost all zeal for God and his glory. What can be 
more ungrateful than to sin against that God that has 
sent his fcon to save me ? than to offend him who defends 
me every day, than to cast off his fear, who hag fed me all 
my life long ; or join a multitude against him, who, pas- 
sing by a multitude has chosen me ? I should have an eye 
to his glory, and his love should be always before me ; 
his greatness should fill my mind with holy awe, and his 
goodness with gratitude and joy. But, ah I worthless I» 
how shall I hold up my face when I fall so far short of my 
duty, and do so little for him, who has done so much, who 
has done every thing for me 1 



^ MEDITATION LII. 

Comparisons, 

July 20, 1T5«. 

To ixiak« my situation more pleasant, in this medita- 
tion, let me run a comparison between the sea-life, and 
the Christian life, which is properly called a warfare. 

1. Then, we embark all in one conimon cause ; so have 
all Christians one interest. 

2. AVe leave our own country, our friends, and our na- 
tive land ; so must every Christian, so must the churcli 
forget her father's house, and her own people. 

3. Sometimes we enter into his majesty's service against 
the opinion and inclination of our nearest friends; so 

. sometimes, in becoming disciples of Jesus, we must deny 
our nearest connections, and dearest friends. 

4. We do not entangle ourselves with the affairs of the 
land, as we belong to the sea ; so must the saint not en- 
tangle himself in the affairs of this life, that he may please 
Him who hath chosen him to be a spiritual soldier. 

5. We are all maintained by the King ; so are all Chris- 
tians by the throne of Heaven. 

6. Wc come here neither uncalled nor unwelcome, 
however unfit ; so none that come to Jesus, shall ever be 
cast out. 

7. Some are impressed for the service of their king and 



156 THE TRAVELLED. 

Country ; so nothing less than aUnighty power caa make 
the sinner submit to Jesus. 

8. We undergo a great change of life when we forsake 
the land and dwell on the ocean ; but they share in a 
greater change, who are translated from darkness into 
light, from the power of satan, to the living God. ^ 

9. Our WW of walking must be changed, else we shall 
have many a fall on the deck ; so Christians must not 
walk as other men, else, they shall not keep the path of 
life. 

10. Our food mtist be changed, and adapted to our way 
of life ; so must Christians live as well as walk by faith, 
and feed on heavenly food. 

11. Our provisions must be of such a nature as to keep 
long, free of putrefaction, and answer in every climate ; 
so must the saint feed on Jesus, the bread of life, who^an 
nourish in every condition below. 

12. We must forego our easy life, and expect to be 
Vv ashed by the briny wave, and beaten by the storm ; 
so Christians must not expect to loll in the lap of plea- 
sure in a world where they are to have tribulation and 
pain. 

13. We must keep continual watch fore and aft the 
ship, and the crew dare never all sleep at once ; so must 
the Christian watch continually, watch unto all prayer, 
and be ever on his guard. 

14. Our very dialect distingushes us from the inhabi- 
tants on land ; so should the Christian be known from 
the men of the world, by his innocent, useful, edifying, 
and religious discourse, managed always with discretion. 

15. We have a discipline peculiar to ourselves, and 
pretty severe ; so has the Christian church from her Lord 
a government and discipline which none can alter or ab- 
rogate. 

16. We must not expect to quit the tempestuous ele- 
ment till the war be finished, and peace proclaimed ; so 
the Christian need not expect to be disengaged from 
trouble and turmoil till the spiritual war is ended, and 
eternal peace brought in. 

IT. We must always be ready to engage the enemy, as 
we know not when we may meet, and where we must 
light ; so the Christian, being in the midst of his eneraie?^ 
must always be ready for the battle, 



tblb traveller. 157 

18. We are provided with arms and ammunition for the 
day of battle at the king's cost; so is every saint with 
the whole armour of God. 

19. Sometimes an engagement at sea is made more 
dreadful by the darkness of the night ; so sometimes in 
the darkness of desertion, the saint is surrounded with all 
his cruel foes. 

20. We must fight before we get the victory ; so must 
the Christian conquer ere he obtain the crown. 

21. We are provided with men of the healing art to 
give assitance to the wounded and diseased ; so have the 
saints a tender-hearted Physician, who binds up the bro- 
ken heart, cures the painful wound, and pours in the heal- 
ing balm. 

22. We have a steward who gives us our provisions 
daily, and not all at once, yet we have no uneasiness, 
knowing there is plenty under his hand, and that he has 
orders not to let us starve ; so the saints, either in respect 
of spiritual provision, or daily bread, need never be disqui- 
eted for futurity, since Jesus is appointed of the Father, 
a steward to all the children of God, since all the fulness 
of the Godhead is treasured up in him for their supply, 
sjid since, to their unspeakable profit, all their provision, 
of one or other kind, is not given to them at once, but 
kept in his hand. 

23. We have persons among us of all nations, English, 
Scots, Irish, Dutch, Swedes, Danes, French, Spaniards, 
Germans, Swiss, Italians, Russians, Indians, &c. of all 
dispositions, of all employments, and of all ages; so the 
Catholic churcli is composed of all nations, people, and 
languages, and of young and old. 

24. We are appareled in a different manner from the 
men on land ; so Christians are covered, both with the 
justifying righteousness of Christ, and with the righteous- 
ness of saints. 

25. Officers, men, boys, arc allowed the same quantity 
of provisions in the same time ; so the fullness of the co- 
venant, the fatness of God^s house, is alike free to all the 
members of Christ. 

26. We have several officers here, without whom we 
could not be governed ; so in the church, there are officers 
for the government of the whole body. 

2T, AYe are in the midst of dangers, and yet are pfe- 



158 T^B TRAVELLEK. 

served ; so the church, like a lily among thorns, grov^'^^ 
and is not thoaked ; is a bush burning, but not consu- 
med ; sometimes persecuted of men, but never forsaken 
of God. ' 

£8. In a voyage, or on a cruise, we are cut off from 
all the world, and have no communication with any ; so 
the church and people of God shall dwell alone, not 
mingle with the people, nor be reckoned among the na- 
tions. 

£9. Every loss we sustain in an engagement is borne 
by government ; but when we conquer, we divide the 
spoil, and share the prize-money among us ; so God sup- 
ports his people in their spiritual warfare, makes up eve- 
ry loss, enriches them with the spoils of their enemies, 
and at last puts palms in their hands, and crowns on their 
heads. 

SO. When the war is ended, and peace restored, we 
retire with all our acquisitions, to receive the congratula- 
tions of our friends, and enjoy ourselves in peace and 
tranquillity as long as we shall live ; even so, at death we 
trample on our last enemy, quit the field with triumph, 
go to the blessed society of saints and angels, receive a 
crown of immortal glory, and are happy beyond expres- 
sion, beyond conception, in the enjoyment of God and 
the Lamb for erermore. 



MEDITATION LIII. 

Our sorrovjfor sin too contracted. 

July S2, 1158. 

Jfow to my grief I am among sinners ; and it corrodes 
my spirits that they with whom I am concerned in one 
vessel and in one interest should so sin against God. 
Though there were no wickedness committed in this ship, 
yet how does it prevail through the whole British fleets 
with which I am connected ; but though I were out of 
the navy, yet lam still concerned with Britain ; or though 
out of Britain, I am^still in the world, and therefore con- 
cerned with the whole inhabitants thereof. Now I see 
my sorrw for siii is not so uniyenal as it ought to be i 



THE TRAVEliLEE* 159 

Tor while I lament great sins, gross abominairlons, ant? 
detestable crimes, I am apt to overlook mental corruptions, 
and natural depravity, which is the spring of all. Again, 
H is too contracted, in that I conline mj^ grief to the 
wretches that are daily in my v^iew ; for though the crew 
here were all saints, yet ho\v» through the whole fleet, 
have officers and men all coriupted their way ! or 
though the v/hole fleet were innocent, yet how through 
Britain, by her armies and men of all ranks, is the divine 
law broken with impunity! But though Britain were as 
righteous a^ Israel in their purest times, yet what wick- 
edness against the majesty of Heaven is committed 
through the world abroad I 

O contracted sorrow I to grieve for nothing but what I 
gee ; as if the glory of God were not alike dear to him 
in all places ; or as if he were not offended at sin on eve- 
ry shore, in every land, and in every heart ! Though 
what I see and hear deserves my first tears, yet I should 
continue the flood, because iniquity overflows the uni- 
verse, because the whole world lies in iniquity, and the 
earth groaneth under the inhabitants thereof. Though 
the enemies of God may not be always in my sight as now 
some of them are, yet they are always in the sight of 
Heaven; sinning against him who is every where pre- 
sent : my sorrow therefore should continually be before 
iiie, and the shame of my face ev^er cover me ; and ray- 
unremitting request should be, and shall be, that the 
knowledge of the Lord may fill the earth, as the waters 
cover the sea. 



MEDITATION LIT. 

Prsioners, 

St. 11616)1% July £9, 1T58. 

This is a common affliction in war, that whoever con- 
quer at last, in the mean time many on both sides loose 
their life or suffer by imprisonment, as these poor men, 
who carry the effects of their long confinement, and short 
allowance, in their countenance. Their meagre looks 
tell they have not been upon the bounty of their own 
sovereign, »nder whose colours they fought. But now^ 



160 THEE TRAVELLER. 

when again possessed of liberty, they betake not them- 
selves to a slothful, indolent, and easy life, but, with re- 
doubled ardour, fly again to arms, eager to be revenged 
on their enemies, and take them prisoners, whose priso- 
ners they were. Even so the soldier, that in the Chris- 
tian warfare (and all his life is one campaign) is taken 
captive by satan, is cast down by some temptation, and 
overcome by some lust ; who is imprisoned in carnality, 
whose iron gate is deadness, and its brazen bolt despair, 
and the chains and fetters which bind the prisoners are in- 
sensibility, and impenitence of heart ; while satan, to 
keep all secure, stands sentry himself; even so, when 
such an one is recovered from his deadness, is restored to 
liberty, by him who takes the prey from the terrible, and 
delivers the lawful captive, how does his holy indignation 
rise against sin, and that sin especially which had over- 
come him ! As he had gone backward, now he runs in the 
way of righteousness, and studies that his path may be 
like the shining light, that shineth more and more unto 
the perfect day. None has a greater hatred of sin than 
he, a greater zeal for the glory of God, a greater jea- 
lousy over himself, and greater compassion for those that 
groan under the assaults of satan, and s>vclling« of sin. 
His jail disease (a death on the whole soul) is removed, 
and being fed and feasted mth the bread of life, he grows 
strong as David, for the war, as an angel of God. Not 
a wound of all those which he received when taken cap- 
tive, but is healed by the balm of Gilead which is poured 
in by the Physician of souls. And he is filled with joy 
by the sweet assurance, that none of all the armies of 
God shall die in prison, but with full triumph, and loud 
hosannah, shall at last enter the realms of everlasting 
day. 



MEDITATION LV. 

A ship falling foul of another. 

Under sail from Cherbourg, 

How sweet is life for which a man will quit with his all ! 
When these two ships, which mine anxious eyes beheld, 
Tell foul of one another, from the lesser vessel which 



THE TRAVELLER, IGl 

feemed in greatest danger, how did every one fly, and 
never look behind I One comes out half naked, but finds 
no cold ; another, in getting into the other ship, catches 
a bruise or a wound, but feels no pain till afterwards. I 
see, then, that man need? no admonition to preserv^e his 
temporal life, or avoid bodily danger; but how do they 
sleep on in sin till awaked in everlasting agonies ! 

*' Fly from the wrath to come," is the divine admoni- 
tion to all ; but a raging sea, and a roaring tempest, a 
sinking vessel, and a swelling wave, are more prevalent 
with men to attempt their escape, than all the terrors of 
the Lord, the prospect of future wrath and eternal tor- 
ment. But some may be discouraged to essay reforma- 
tion, or begin to amend, because they have so long fol- 
lowed the ways of sin ; yet this, instead of deterring 
them from, should determine them to make their last ef- 
forts to escape. Tell the afifiiohted crew, that because 
they are in danger, they must dwell in danger sedatelj% 
and let themselves drown without disturbance, since it 
seems to be their fate. Such an advice would seem the 
language of a madman, an ad vice they never will accept 
of. Tliey will make the more haste the greater their 
danger, and the greater speed to deliver themselves the 
nearer they seem to destruction ; yea, they will attempt 
to make their escape, though they should perish in the 
attempt. They will rather be in motion, than sit still 
and perish. O that men, the worst of men, would fol-^ 
low their example ! for if they abide in their sins they 
perish, and though they misgive in their attempts to es- 
cape (but when does this happen ?) they can but perish. 

Again, a man fast asleep could not have been concern- 
ed in all the confusion these men VvCre in, Irat should have 
sunk like a stone in the mighty waters. But all that are 
aAvake see their danger, and endeavour to accomplisZi 
their escape. So those that are in a natural state are 
spiritually asleep, and see no danger till they plunge in- 
to the flames of hell : but the soul that is awake to eter- 
nity, sees his danger, and flies from the wrath to come ; 
and there is as great difference between a man in a renew- 
ed and unrenewed state, as between a man fastasleep and 
broad awake. 

Moreover, we see that these men minded nothing but 
lifie, left all behind them, even their most precious things, 
J. ^ 



iG2 THE TRAVELLEK. 

and ma<le their escape. So, when a soul seeks to be found 
In Christ, not having his own righteousness, he counts 
all things but loss and dung, even the things he had coun- 
ted gain before, for the excellency of the know^ledge of 
Christ Jesus his Lord. He sets his eye on the unseen 
world, and secures his interest there. Looking on the 
present world as a shattered vessel that cannot long car- 
ry him safe, but must sink him at last, he sees that it is 
his highest wisdom to get out of the leaky vessel, into 
the safe ark of the covenant, that still keeps above the 
swelling floods. And finally, he sets his affections on 
lieavenly things, and anticipates a little of that joy and 
serenity which shall take place in the world to come, 
when storms and tempests cease. 



MEDITATION LYl. 

War, 

Under sail, August 18, 1T58. 

How often have we cause to cry out of the cruelty of 
men ! Mankind, allied to one another by blood, and hu- 
man reason, yet have more cunning to destroy each other 
than all the beasts of the forest. No sooner were these 
poor innocents as to personal prejudics (who never met 
before, and only meet now^ that they may meet no more) 
ivithin the reach of mutual destruction, but they fall to 
work, and deprive each other of their life, and hands un- 
known send souls into the world unseen. Cannon roar 
like the destructive thunders, and all the instruments of 
war are set a sounding terror and dismay. Pity, that 
character of Heaven, knows no egress from the human 
breast, till the enemy are cut off, or yield prisoners to 
the victor. How many souls, by the unsheathed and na- 
ked sword, are sent naked into the world of spirits ! Un- 
prepafed for their last moments, they have not a quiet 
moment at last to prepare for death, but are hurried in- 
to their last, unalterable state at once, with a few melt- 
ing groans. "What a piteous sight is the field of battle ! 
The very ground is plowed with the irresistible cannon- 
balls ; or if the battle borders on a wood, the trees are 



THE TRAVELLER. 16S 

barked with continual firing, and the neighouring hills 
echo with the noise, the confused noise of war, while 
the shriekings and groanings of the deadly wounded add 
to the horrors of the day. Such are the contests of 
courts, such the ambition of kings, who purchase elbow- 
room to their sceptres, at the expence of Iheir subjects 
lives. 

But if the war of mortals be so terrible to one another, 
what must that day be when God shall rise up to the 
prey, to rid him of his enemies, and ease him of his ad- 
versaries? when his angry countenance shall kindle the 
heavens above, and set the earth on fire beneath ? when 
the thunders of his right hand shall fill hell with univer- 
sal trembling ; and his flaming throne that is rolled on 
wheels of fire, and whence a fiery stream issues, shall af- 
Mghten the human race, being summoned to make their 
last appearance before the judgment-seat? No pity, no 
compassion then, no mercy, no forgiveness there ! If 
men are cut off by the weapons of war, in the hand of 
frail mortals how must they perish under the stroke of 
Omnipotence, which shall reach to the soul in all her 
powers ? when his almighty hand tJikes hold of, and whets 
the glittering sword, and swears he lives for ever, to pun- 
ish his enemies for ever ? 

O that men w^ere wise, and would consider their lat- 
ter end ; would throw down the weapons of their rebel- 
lion, and fight under the Captain of salvation 1 then 
should they be happy in war and in peace ; in this, and 
in the world to come. 



MEDITATION LVIT. 

Unfortunate Retreat,^ 

St. Cas, Sept. n, 11:5s, 
Ah, mournful day ! what moving sights, what melting 
sounds have I seen and heard by sea and land this day I 

* Oil r forces having made a decent on the coast of France, the en- 
emy ajsetiibled their forces, befiire whom our little army retreated, to 
re-embark, but when the greater iiart was carried aboard the trans- 
ports by the flat bottomed boats, the enemy came down, and kiiletl 
and made prisoners, about 1400. The action lasted about two hotiVs^ 
tho li'igat«8 and bomb-ketches assisted th* Ism^ forces »!§«• 



1^4 THE TIIAVELLEH, 

My heart bleeds for the sons of Vv^ar, who boldiy sheU 
their blood. For though their scanty number was over- 
powered by the enemy, who poured in fresh supplies, yet 
their courage was conspicuous to the last. Ah, doleful 
event of one fatal day ! Many, gay and cheerful in the 
morning, lay gasping at noon, and are clay-cold by the 
evening twilight I My heart-strings are pierced with pain, 
wliile I remember the anguish of their last moments : 
they fall, but none to lift them up ; they groan, but no 
kindly sympathiser ; they die, and there is no tender- 
hearted mounier, none to deplore them. The little army 
is broken by superior numbers, and take to flight ; but 
whither can they fly ? A victorious enemy is before, rocks 
on every side, and a raging sea behind; some even ad- 
venture into the water, and are shot while wading for 
life, or perish in the waves I 

How vain the confidence of man ! how empty the 
boast of invincible courage I Let men remember that 
God gives the victory, and that at his frown heroes fall, 
aiid armies fly. 

Methinks I see the yet more awful, universal, and con- 
clusive day, when the J^eavens shall open in tremendous 
thunders, when the dreadful trumpet, with louder sounds 
than ever echoed from the martial plains, shall raise the 
sleeping dust, and the tremendous Judge descend in flam- 
ing vengeance on his fiery throne ; before whom the na- 
tions shall be assembled, and by whom the final sentence 
passed. This is the decision that shall concern the vic- 
toi^s and the vanquished : The survivors and the slain ; 
sovereigns and their subjects ; yea, the whole world and 



MlEDITATION LVni. 

The natural man insensible of mercij^ 

Portsmouth Harbour , Novemher 1, 1T58. 

Did men look but a little towards God, and into them?* 
.*jelves, it would be their wisdom ; but true wisdom can 
never shine where saving grace does not dwell. There 
nvf-. fome men saved from dangers, the relation of whidi 



THE TRAVELLER. 165 

ill list astonish. They are standing monuments of singu- 
lar mercy, when numbers were dropping down around 
them, when instruments of death were rattling thick 
about them, like the hail from the thunder-cloud, and 
bullets falling like drops of rain, and yet they preserved 
safe among the gasping crowd. And there are others 
who have still a more narrow escape, while the bullet 
breaks a bone to them, which might have cut the thread 
of their life; wounds an extremity, which might have 
pierced the heart and dislodged the soul. For a month 
or six weeks they have a kindly remembrance of their 
singular preservation and heaven's peculiar mercy. But, 
O chilling thought ! how soon do these very persons for- 
get their great deliverer, shew not the least gratitude to 
God, but return to sin, and proceed from evil to worse 1 
Had any person been a mean of their preservation, they 
had displayed so much of the gentleman as never to for- 
get it: but it was Grod and they display so much of the 
sinner, the abandoned sinner, as never to remember it, 
never to acknowledge it ! They pursue their sinful prac- 
tices, as if their life had at first been given, and preser- 
ved when in danger, for no other purpose. These men 
are the enemies of God ; they have been hungry and he 
has given them bread to eat; they have been thirsty 
and he has given them water to drink ; they have been 
in disease, and he has recovered them ; in danger, and he 
has preserved them ; therefore, if they continue still his 
enemies, he will heap coals of fire on their head, while 
his kindness shall be renowned for ever. Where mercies 
have no effect, judgments shall without fail have most, 
terrible effect at last. Since I am a child of many mer- 
cies, may gratitude write them, in indelible characters^ 
on the table of my heart ! 



MEDITATION LIX. 

The word of God irreslsiihle, 

iYoi'. 3, 1T58. 

O HOW glorious and irresistible is the word of grace 
when it comes accompanied with divine power ! a word 
that turns a sinner from his wickedness to God. Fire 



1^6 TEE TRAVELLER. 

and sword cannot convert ; war and shipwreck cannot 
reclaim ; dangers and deliverance cannot reform ; mer- 
cies and judgments cannot change the man ; but one 
verse in the holy scriptures, a sentence or paragraph in 
a religious treatise, or an expression in a sermon backed 
with the divine blessing, and sent home by the Spirit of 
God, can prick to the very heart, overpower the whole 
soul, and open his eyes towards God, himself, and eter- 
nity ; towards God, to see his holiness and indignation 
against sin ; towards himself, to see his desperate and de- 
plorable state in such a gulph of impurity and raging 
enmity against God ; tov. ards eternity, to see his vast 
concerns and interests there, and that they are of another 
kind than he dreamed of. Once he thought of nothing 
but assemblies, balls, and the theatre ; of revel lings and 
parties of pleasure ; of knowing and being known ; of 
posts, preferment, and commissions from his prince ; of 
grand appearance, noble equipage, splendid retinue, and 
high-sounding titles. But now he sees that judgment 
awaits all his actions, eternity treads on the heels of time, 
and that there is a world to come. These things cast 
out the vain and trifling phantoms that engrossed all his 
attention before, and give him just and proper ideas of 
every thing around. And this great and wonderful 
change, which makes him account every thing loss, dung 
and dross, in comparison of the excellency of the know- 
ledge of Christ and the unseen world, is effected by a very 
word, that the excellency of the power may be seen to 
be of God ; while others hear thousands of such w^ords, 
and continue in impenitency. 

Though a man w^ere thrown into hell, and saw and 
suffered all the torments of the damned, for years and 
ages, and brought up again to the land of the living, to 
the place of hope, yet all would be to no purpose, for 
without the blessing of the ?4ost High, on the means of 
grace, lie w*ould not accept of salvation, nor receive the 
Saviour by believing on his name ; and this is evident 
in those who have a foretaste of the terrors of hell, by 
the horrors of an awakened conscience, which, instead 
of bringing them nearer to, drives them farther from God, 
and plunges them into the tremendous deeps of despair. 

Though the v.- ords of eace may be more glorious from 
^omit Zion t# those the . have beard the threatpnings of 



THE TEAVELLEE. i&t 

mount Sinai, and though the thunderings of the law may 
precede to prepare his way ; yet still God comes to a soul 
in the still small voice of the gospel. Then happy they 
that know the joyful sound, for faith comes by hearing, 
and hearing by the word of God. By what experience 
shall they support their plea, who are for free will^ and a 
kind of self -agency^ in the work of conversion, when we 
see thousands and ten thousands perish, although it is na* 
tural for all men to wish to be happy I The Armenian 
will say, because they will not, therefore they are not 
happy ; but says the scripture, " No man can come to 
me except the Father, which hath sent me, draw him.^ 
Now, whether I am to believe the Armenian or God, lei 
all the world judge. 



MEDITATION LX. 

Docking Ships. 

Nov, 4, 1T58. 

It is requisite at certain times to bring ships into the 
dock, that they may be cleaned, caulked, and fitted out 
for sea again. This is indeed attended with trouble, as 
guns, carriages, shot, stores, provisions, and ballast, must 
be taken out, that the ship may easily be got into docl^, 
and a proper inspection made into those places that need 
repair ; and that stores, provisions, and every thing need- 
ful, may be completed for a cruise or a voyage. 

Then how much more necessity have Christians, who 
steer on a more tempestuous sea than the watery element, 
to inspect and try themselves ! For such serious and so™ 
lemn work, they should set a day apart for prayer and 
examination ; when, that they may know their situation, 
they should look into their heart and inclination, their 
life and conversation, their thoughts, the ends and mo- 
tives of all their actions. Assisted by the light of rev- 
elation, they should see, and comparing themselves with 
the rule of the word, they should understand what is 
wrong, what is wanting, what is decayed, and what iy 
defective. They ought to seaich into the state of their 
)ul, and the condition of their graces ; and also see what 



i6S THE TRAVELLER. 

sins have been most predominant in them. Surely those 
who are cast into wicked company, and are daily hearing 
and seeing sin, have much to mourn over ; for such an 
exercise is highly requisite in all the candidates for glo- 
ry. They are also, from the royal magazine of grace, 
which, for the saints, is treasured up in the Son of God, 
to take in provisions of every kind, and all sorts of war- 
like stores, such as the sword of the Spirit, the helmet of 
calvation, the shield of faith, the anchor of hope, and the 
compass of truth ; as they must steer over roaring oceans, 
struggle through storms and tempests, and fight their pas- 
sage all along through foes, and thus, spiritually refitted,, 
proceed in their voyag^4o IramanuePs land. 



MEDITATION LXI. 

On going into harbour. 

Nov. 5, 1T58. 

One should think that when the tempests and the dan- 
gers of the sea are over, all were safe ; and that in sight 
of land we should laugh at shipwreck ; yet the loss of 
nations, and the experience of thousands, attest, that on 
coasts more ships are lost than at sea ; and so the Gov- 
ernment has prudently appointed pilots to bring in his 
Majesty's ships, that they may be in no danger in com- 
ing into harbour. 

Now, what may this remind us of, but that the saints, 
and such as look for an happy anchoring in the port of 
bliss, should be very careful how they steer the last part 
of their long and momentous voyage ; how they enter 
the harbour of death, where their ship is to be laid up, 
not for a winter, but for ever. They are to beware that 
they do not stick on the sands of carnal security ; or run 
into the shallow waters of lukewarm indifferency ; or be 
blown on the rocks of false confidence, by the high winds 
of spiritual delusion. A mistake here may occasion dam- 
age, but, though it cost expences, may be mended ; but 
among men, a mistake at death is fatal, and of the la:-l 
consequence, because it can never.be mended afterwards. 
Again, the tide is a mighty assistant in our getting into 



THE TRAVELLER. 169 

iiarbour here ; but to dying mortals, the Jordan of death 
is a terrible river, which overflows all its banks ; and it 
is the fear of dissolution that keeps some all their lifetime 
subject to bondage ; yea, and by this current, thousands 
and ten thousands are hurried into the horrid pit of per- 
dition. But in a surprising manner the saints go over 
dry shod ; for the High Priest, who bears the ark of the 
everlasting covenant, and all the rich grace and precious 
promises that it contains, having that river to Vv^ade 
through which runneth in the way of all living, once did 
so, with the soles of his feet, when he was found in fash- 
ion as a man, and humbled himself, and became obedient 
unto death, even the death of the cross, so that it remains 
still cut in two to the saints, even while it overflows all 
its banks to the wicked. 

The more we advance into the harbour, v/e are the 
more out of danger from the storms and tempests that 
sweep along the ruffled ocean. But it is otherwise with 
the dying saint ; satan does all he can to cloud his eviden- 
ces; to deaden his faith, to blacken his infirmities, to 
make him doubt his own condition, to nickname his gra- 
ces, to slay his confidence, to draw him from Christ, and 
drive him into despair, anxious to make a wreck of him 
even in sight of Imraanuel's shore : yet all the powers 
of hell shall never pluck the least of Christ's little ones 
out of his hand. But how watchful should we be, and 
how careful to prepare for these critical moments ! for we 
3) re like a ship that has traded for a long time in the East- 
indies, and comes home with all her treasures ; so our alj, 
OLir everlasting all, is lost if we founder at our last. 
However, our safety lies in this alone, that he whose pres- 
ence calms tlie raging sea, and rending winds, shall be 
our pilot to the harbour of the better country, to the por^ 
of ^'lerv. 



170 THE TKATELLER,- 



jyiEDITATION LXrr. 

On taking in large provrsions-. 

Portland Roads, Dec, 15,1T58. 

Surely the children of this world are wiser in their 
generation than the children of light ; for at land every 
man provides what he can against winter ; and at sea wei 
take in large stores of all things, when we are to make a 
long voyage. Now, my soul, ^diat hast thou laid up for 
eternity ? This awful, this interesting voyage, thou must 
make : it is already begun, and thou shalt never tread on 
the earth again, never more return to time after death ; 
and if thou carriest not something with thee, thou must 
suffer irreparable loss for ever, as there is no oil to be 
bought (this the foolish virgins shall find) in the other 
world ; no grace to be found, nor pardon to be expected 
(this all impenitent sinners shall experience) on the oth- 
er side of the grave. Death cuts down the tree as it 
stands, which falls as it grows, and as it falls must lie for 
ever. Why then, O blinded Papists I prayers and masses 
for the dead ? To as good purpose apply medicines to 
dead bodies to bring them to life again, as use prayers for 
departed souls to bring them to salvation. It is now that 
we must improve for eternity, where our vast and high- 
eft concerns lie. 

If this ship should go out to cruise for three months in 
the main ocean without bread or beer, wood or water, or 
any other provisions, would not all concerned in her be 
chargeable with consummate folly, as the whole crew 
must inevitably perish with hunger ? but of greater mad- 
ness am I possessed, if my soul go out into the boundless 
ocean of eternity without an interest in Christ, who is 
the tree of life that feeds the higher house, and river of 
life that waters all the paradise of God. 

According to the length of our voyage must be the^ 
quantity of provisions taken aboard ; and indeed nothiiig^ 
less than a whole G-od, in all his fulness and perfections,, 
an all-sufficient Saviour, in all his offices and relations, 
and the Holy Ghost, in all bis divine influences and con- 



X'HE TRATELLEK. Ifl 

soiaiioiis, can be a proper provision for my soul through a 
whole eternity. 



MEDITATION LXIH. 

Comfort and icrror in one considtration. 

Portland Roads, Dec. 19, 1T58- 

When the affairs of war, and protection of our trade, 
call for a change of climates, and hurry us from the chil- 
Jing Noith to the burning South, it may afford comfort to 
the pious soul to reflect, that the God on whom he built 
his hopes /lere, is also there, to answer all the expectations 
of his faith. But it may strike terror into the profligate 
wretch, to think that the God against whom he sinned 
Iiere. is also there to punish his iniquity. Then I see that 
the omnipresence of God may be a panacea, an universal 
cure, to the anxiety of my soul every where : for God 
may call his own people from their own home, their friends, 
their country, but he-Avill never cast them from his pro- 
tection, his presence, himself. Then, though I leave my 
friends and acquaintance, and go to the remotest Indies, 
or most distant parts of the world, still the same God 
that here manifests himself so gracious and so kind, is the 
fame God that governs under tlie whole heaven, and 
th6re can manifest himself in his wonted tender mercy, 
and former loving-kindness. Whither can I go from him 
who is every where ? this is my comfort. And whither 
wilt thou, O sinner ! fly from him who is every where? 
let this be thy terror. For the God that dwells between 
the cherubims of a gospel-dispensation, sits also on the 
floods ; and he that rules in Jacob, rules also unto the 
ends of the earth. Moreover, when I leave this world 
to go into the world unknown, then the same God (for 
he inhabits eternity, who measures the moments of my 
time) whom I served here, shall receive me there. This 
is the excellency of the Cliristian religion, that we, as it 
were, begin eternity in time, and join in our adorations 
with the sons of day, with the hosts of heaven. Delu- 
ded nations of old trusted in gods, that could not go, but 
mast needs be borne by their demented votaries ; but thet 



172 THE TRAVELLER. 

true God, who is an everlasting King, has been the God 
of his chosen people in all places of the world, aud in 
all ages, yea, before the world began ; hence says Moses, 
** Thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations, 
before thou hadst brought fortli the mountains :" and 
when time is gone, and ages finished, he will be their 
flweHing-place, who is from everlasting to everlasting 
Ood. Then happy 1, if I have an abiding relation, and 
nSure interest in him who is every \\ here present, as to his 
essence ; and inhabits eternity, as to his duration. Ti)ne 
past and to come only respects us, for v.'ith God it ever 
was, is, and will be one eternal noiv. 

Every way I look there is safety : Dwell I at home, 
he is there; go I abroad, he is there ; live I in this worlds 
lie holds it in his hand, and sees under the whole heaven ; 
die I, and go out of the world, he is there filling all, and 
in all. Now, O sinner ! stand still, and see thy misery. 
Thou sinnest against God, and how shalt thou escape? 
thou mayest injure a fellow creature, and by going into 
some distant part of the world, elude law, and laugh at 
justice; and if thou diest, thou art out of the reach of the 
pursuer here to all intents and purposes; but go where 
thou wilt, thou art still in his power, still in his presence, 
whom thou hast offended. Then mind, that he whom 
thou hast made thine enemy all thy life long, will at last 
be thy judge and supreme tormentor, whose breath shall 
kindle the burning e^am. Sinners and saints may have 
common comforts, and common crosses, but one thought 
on eternity spreads horror through the soul of the one» 
while it dilfusos consolation in the breast of the other. 



MEDIT^.TION LXIY. 

On being in hot dhnaiesin a few dt'ys. 

Under sail for Gihraller, Feb. 2, 1759. 

How few days sailing from the temperate zone, can 
chill us in the freezing north, or scorch us in the burning: 
pouth ! Of the last we had experience, while inclement 
winter receded from the plowing keel, and smiling sum- 
mer approached the expanded sail I This short ^nd sadden 



THE TRAVELLED. 173 

ckaBge suggests an interesting tliought to my^ mind ; 
tliat at the hour of death, in a shorter time than this, tlie 
?oul shall either he placed in that degree of distance from 
God where eternal winter blows terrible, with all the 
angry storms and tempests of vindictive wrath ; or (may 
I use the expression ?) under the very line of union and 
com^munion with the Most High, where the Sun of righ- 
teousness shall shine from his cloudless meridian, and 
pour down assimilating glory in every beam- This stu- 
pendous thought I cannot, I dare not pursue, but, falling 
oif in silence, give way to deep meditation. 



MEDITATION LXV. 

An high wind preferable to a calm* 

Under sail^ Feb. 15, 1T59. 

Ar.iOcVG the wonders of navigation, this is one, that 
through opposing waves v/hich dash on every side, and 
amidst winds so strong that they seem rather a tempest 
than a moderate gale, the ship should pursue her voyage 
with more expedition, and reach her poft sooner, than in 
a profound calm. Indeed he that never had his foot on 
salt water before, and adventures only on the glassy sur- 
face to take his pleasure, will bless the serenity, and con- 
gratulate the calm ; but the spirited sailor who minds his 
business, and has other climes in view, will rather wish a 
brisk gale to waft him to the distant shore, than to roll 
about in a dead calm till his vessel be eaten with worms, 
or grow rotten in the water and perish. 

Even so. Christian, it fares with thee. Believe it, the 
best weather does not make the best voyage heavenward. 
It is better for thee to proceed on thy course through the 
rolling waves of affliction, attended by the ruffling winds 
of adversity, than to be becalmed by affluence, ease, and 
prosperity. The one, through seeming difficulty and 
threatened danger, shall at last let thee arrive at thy de- 
lired haven, while the other detains thee to thy eternal 
ruin. God, that sits as king on the swelling Hood, rule < 
also all the afflictions of his people. Though sometimes 
they complain, " All thy waves and thy billows are gon^ 
X 2 



174 THE TKAVELLEK. 

over me," 3'et not one can attack thein, but by his per- 
mission, nor swell beyond the given bounds. Covenant- 
mercy has established the kind decree, *' Hitherto shalt 
thou come, but no further, and here shall thy perplexing 
waves be stayed." Why then should the Christian mar- 
iner on the ilood of time, cry out so against the boister- 
ous wind, afflictive wave, and foaming billoAv, which has- 
ten tlie out-bound sail to the pacific shore ? Have not 
some, by tL*3 thorny cross, been startled out of their de- 
lusive dreams, and awakened to the concerns of a world 
to come ? by the loss of a child, found the Son of God? 
and b}^ the death of an earthly father, been brought into 
subjection to the Father of spirits, and so made to live ? 
xknd have not some, while unjustly deprived of a small 
part, and petty inheritance in this world, been made to 
look out for an inheritance in the better country, an 
house not made with h^aids, eternal in the heavens ? To 
say no more, will not the experience of the saints agree 
in this, that he knows their souls in adversity ; and that 
while their outward m-an seemeth to decay through the 
lashes of daily affliction, their inward man is renewed 
day by day, so that in the year of drought their soul is 
as a watered garden ? 



MEDITATION LXVI. 

On sailing near different nations, 

Feb. 20, 1759, 

There is a great pleasure rn sailing to different parts 
of the world, to see the divine wisdom, and profuse boun- 
ty every where displayed, of him that made the whole ; 
but there is a great pain in this, that wherever we go, v/e 
see the terrible devastation of sin. If we look to one 
shore, there superstition reign ; if to another, there cru- 
elty rages. These pretend to be Christians, those avow 
themselves Musselmen, while a third are mere infidels. 
All worship some God, but how" few the true God, hoiv 
very few, the true God in truth I O, then, that God 
would have respect to his covenant, because the dark pla- 
ce.^ of the earth are fall of the habitatinn^ of hoi-nd cav- 



THE THAVELLEKv 1T5 

eliy I When shall the darkness that covers the nations, 
the gross darkness tliat covers the people, be dispelled 
by the light of the glorious gospel of the Son of God ? 
AVhen shall Jehovah, as his special and spiritual inherit- 
ance, take all nations ? Shall satan continue to take king- 
doms captive at his wil 1 ? Shall the destroyer of the Gen- 
tiles ruin precious souls without number? Shall they 
therefore empty (^(^ir net, and not spare continually to 
slay the nations ? Let not the curse devour. the eailh, 
and them that dwell thereon. "When shall the name of 
Jew and Gentile be lost in that of Christian, and Chris- 
tians become the true worshippers of the Father, the fol- 
lowers of the Lamb ? When shall that reviving acclama- 
tion charm the ears of all the expectants, of the sacred 
conquest, " The kingdoms of this world are become the 
kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ ; and he shall 
reign for ever and ever ?" Hasten the time when the 
I-^ord of universal nature shall bestow tliis general bene- 
diction, saying, Blessed be Asia and Africa, ray people, 
America, the work of mine hands, and Europe, with her 
Isles, mine inheritance. 



MEDITATION LXVII. 

Oil r'caciung a port after being long at sea, 

Gibraltar Bay, Feb. 21, 1T59., 

JS'ow we have reached the desired haven when patience 
was almost worn out, and we had been long sported with 
by the unfavourable gale. Among the battling winds we 
spent at least thrice the time that might have brought us 
hither ; but now, wiien safely moored, the dark reflec- 
tions fly, and the disagreeableness of our passage decisea- 
ses, through joy that we are come so safe to an anchor: 
tiie vevj diflicuUles that overtook us on the ocean make 
our coming to harbour afford us greater pleasure, than if 
a favourable wind in a few days had wafted us hither. 

Even so, when the saints of God reach the happy 
-^hore, it shall, as it were, heighten the joys of the higher 
'-' i.=p, that they dwelt in the hocFe of mourning; soften 



116 THE TBAVELLE-S. 

their rest, that they were tose^ed on a stormy ocean; 
brighten the heavenly vision, that they have seen scenes 
of affliction ; .swell their delight and complacency, that 
their life w^as full of disappointment nnd pain ; and sweet- 
en these rivers of pleasures, that tiiey have drank the 
waters of Mara. Here the troubled sailor in a storm is 
afraid of shipwreck every moment ; but the saint may be 
assured, (why then, O saints! so mucfcdoubting ?) that 
he shall safely arrive at ImmanueFs coast, in spite of all 
the storms that attack, and tempests that attend him by 
the way. Courage, then, my soul, and weather out the 
squalls, and endure the bitterest blasts that can blow, 
against thee, triumphing in this one consideration, that 
eternal veracity is engaged for thy security. The storms 
that now beset thee are but transient, and also bounded ; 
feut the rest and peace, the felicity and joys, that are re- 
served for thee, are eternal, Immense, and passing all un-, 
derstandinii!;. 



MEDITATION LXYIII. 

On a man that died by Uqugt. 

Under sail^ Mednerranean^ March 6, 1759. 

In how many things is it possible for man to transgress ? 
Not a blessing but he can turn into a curse ; not a mercy 
but he can suck misery from it, and, by excess, the means 
of life become the occasion of death. How sad an use 
make we of the creature, when it renders us incapable 
of serving our Creator ; which is the case, not only with 
the drunkard and glutton, but with the carnal-minded 
man, who surfeits on the cares and riches of this world! 

This demented wretch, this poor fellow-creature, tried 
his strength to his own destruction, and was a more cruel 
suicide or self-murderer, than if he had given himself a 
mortal wound ; for then he might have died awake, 
and with the exercise of his reason, but now he undergoes 
the last, the most tremendous change asleep, and totally 
deprived of the use of reason I He drank till he dropped 
down in a dead eleep, out of v hich it was imposdble to 
Awske hira (for death v,c=t in i.) till plunged into the 



TItE TRATELLER. T(7 

viorldof spirits. But how terrible to die in sucii a con- 
dition I If any dreams, reflection, or remembrance of 
former things, could penetrate his profound slumber, his 
deep sleep, he would believe himself to be still among his 
companions, drinking the other glass, and quaffing it out 
merrily among his mess-mates. But O how inconceiva- 
bly astonished, and terribly surprised, to find himself dis- 
embodied, ^nd in his sober wits, pannelled before the aw- 
ful tribunal, and hear the final sentence passed ! Fain 
would he recoil into the body which he lately left, but the 
union is dissolved, the tie is broken, and he is thenceforth 
an inhabitant in the world of spirits ! Perhaps he dream- 
ed, while the fiery spirits were burning up his vitals, that 
he was drinking at some cooling stream; but how disap- 
pointed to find his first draught the wine of the fierceness 
of the wrath of God, poured out without the least mix- 
ture of mercy i The last words he spoke were oaths, but 
how would it strike with terror to hear the belching of 
consummate despair ! While he felt himself at once sur- 
rounded Avith the bowlings of Tophet, the blasphemies 
of the damned, and all the grdtns and yellings of the 
burning pit, what tongue can tell, what heart conceive 
what he must feel ? 

Indeed the thoughtless rabble seemed somewhat ama- 
zed at this uncommon death ; but how superficial is their 
concern while they continue the very savie excesses which 
proved fatal to their fellow-creature ! But however much 
amazed man may be at this manner of the souPs going 
out of the body into eternity, in such a doleful case, in 
such a melancholy condition, the whole graceless world 
die ; for though they can talk to men, and have their eye, 
their ear, their tongue, in a word, the use of all their sen- 
ses, and the exercise of their reason to the last, yet their 
30ul8, with respect to spiritual things, and communion 
with God, are as fast asleep, as deadly and deeply intox- 
icated with the juice of the vine of Sodom, even the 
draughts of sin and pleasure, as this poor man that died 
with too much liquor; and shall be equally astonished, 
terrified, tormented, when awaked in the world of spirit^. 



17^ THE TRAVELLER^ 

MEDITATION LXK. 

The Earth a Globe, 

Under sail, Mediterranean, Mardi IS, 1T59. 

Wherever I sail, the earth is still beneath my feet, 
and the heaven is still above my head ; which shows the 
madness of man's desire, that has no limits, when its ob- 
ject is every where circumscribed. It is not for a king- 
dom exalted above the hills, that the contending nations 
nov»r are at war ; it is but for a footbreadth of dust, a pro- 
vince, an island, or a frontier towTi, that tribes are slaugh- 
tered, and nations are undone. Were there nothing bet- 
ter than this earth, no wonder if we sought to extend our 
possession in the earth. It would be excusable for ava- 
rice to seek to the ends of ths world, if there the golden 
mountains arched above our heads with all their spark- 
ling veins ; but still this idol of mankind lies buried in 
ore, and deep in the bowels of the earth, that it may not 
affect our ambitious eye ; and still the heavens bend above 
ns, to attract the soaring principle essential to the human 
soul. But as man despises what he should esteem, and 
doats on what he should abhor, seeking the creature 
more than the Creator, who is himself blessed for ever, 
and makes all that seek him blessed ; God, in a way of 
judgment *' has sot the world in the hearts of the sons of 
men." Hence their whole chase, study, and endeavour, 
is for the world, which, though in great abundance ob- 
tained, cannot satisfy us ; yet, believing that an addition 
to what we already have, will afford that satisfaction 
which we are conscious we want, our chase is perpetua- 
ted, and we are still disappointed. But how poor art 
heart-full have we who embrace our sepulchre, and hu^ 
our very tomb I For we must shortly lie buried among 
the mould we so much admire, and rot in the grosser par- 
ticles of dust which we so regard. What is empire to an 
immortal soul ? What the enjoyment of the universe foi* 
a few years, to one whose existence must measure with 
endless ever more? Then, as the earth is under my feet, 
and the heavens above my bead, wherever I wander, let 
my affections trample this with just disdain ; but my soul, 
on the wings cf holy desire, soar to the regions ef etemai 
clay I 



XHE TRAVELLEE, IT^ 

MEDITATION LXX. 

On ships mistaking one anoihcr, 

♦ Mediierranean^ March 14, 1T59. 

How often on the ocean do we prepare to fight a friend I 
Wherever we see a strftnge sail that belongs not to our 
fleet or squadron, we look upon her as an enemy, and so 
give chase, bring to, and speak with her. When we learn 
that she is out on the same errand, to distress the common 
foe, and by the same authority, at last our preparation 
for an engagement issues in an agreeable beguile. But 
at other times we are still more unhappy, while in the 
dark night, and not attending to, or understanding each 
other's signals, we think we have found our enemy, and 
so fire upon one another. When the morning light, or 
some other means, undeceive us, we feel in the most ex- 
quisite manner for our mistake ; though his majesty has 
made provision for the friends of the unhappy sufferers if 
they die, or the sufferers themf'elves if rendered lame, by 
engaging one another through mistake. 

Even so is the case often among the saints and churches 
of God. Contests come between the best of men, and 
sometimes about the smallest matters. Paul and Barna- 
bas are so hot about their companion, that they part com- 
pany ; and to this day the teachers of t]ie good knowledge 
of God can fall out about a word, though they own one 
Lord, one faith, one baptism, and subscribe one creed. 
Then, from these differences, we apprehend one another 
to be enemies; and, giving ground to our apprehensions, 
we begin to treat each other as enemies to the truth, and 
to the King of Zion, to the injury of the common cause 
of religion, and the hurt of the loyal subjects of Hea- 
ven. ' 

Such indeed are the trials of the saints and church in 
their militant state, such are the calamities that are con- 
tingent to her in these days of darkness, and on this sea 
of trouble ; but when they come to speak mouth to mouth, 
and to see eye to eye in the light of glory, they shall be 
iill one. We should indeed contend for the truth vv'ith a 
z^al and concern m\t to its divinity ^ bat with a tendeT" 



i&O THE TRAVELLER. 

ness and S3rmpathy which our present imperfection pleads 
for. We should love the truth dearly, but yet rather pi- 
ty than despise those that depart from some points whick 
we count truth. We should not sell the truth to buy 
friends, to make a party, or gain numbers to our side ; 
but we should forego our own humors, that the truth by 
US get not a wound. 'We bad sometimes better employ 
our time in prayer to God, to turn them from the error of 
their way, than show our parts and our spleen, in prc- 
ring them to be wittitigly blind, and to have loilfully er- 
red. AYe should do all things, except wound the ti-uth, 
to make all men one in the truth ; and when differences 
are done away, persanal [affronts should never stand in 
the way of reconciliation. How deplorable would it be 
if my hands, instead of being a mutual help, should 
scratch and tear one another ; if my feet, instead of bear- 
ing me out the way, should stand still to kick at one ano- 
ther ! So, and much worse is it for saints, who are the 
spiritual members of Christ, the living head, to bite and 
devour one another ; but this is owing to the remains of 
■corruption in them ; and perfect peace is reserved for the 
state of highest perfection. 

Now, as it is only at sea, and under the gloom of night 
that w^e are like to make mistakes, for when we come 
into harbour, and enjoy the noon-day beam, we have no 
doubt of one another, but know that we are ail the sub- 
jects of one King, engaged in one cauee, and combined 
against the common enemy; so It is only in this vale of 
tears, this day of thick darkness, that vre cannot under- 
stand one another, but are ready, like the ofiicioci^ disci-- 
pies, to forbid them that follow not with m in all things, 
though they be the servants of Christ. But when the- 
warfare is fmished, and the saints assembled before the 
throne of God and the Lamb, all wrong vievrs, jarring 
opinions, discordance and difference, shall be done away - 
for ever ; in view of which eternal tracraillity we must- 
comfort oui'selves under the disagreeable occurrences of 
this troublesome life, where we not only must fight witk 
foes, but fall out v/ith dearest fi:ierids, and differ with ou^ 
diwns8tves< 



THE TRAVE1.LER, 181 

MEDITATION LXXI. 

What we ought to reniemben 

Leghorn, April 5, 1T59. 

As we can never be from under the eye of God, nor 
would choose to be cast out of his care ; so Zion should 
never be out of our mind, nor cast out of our concerno 
Besides, as we still think ourselves branches of the family 
to which we belong, and are glad to hear from our pa- 
rents and relations of their welfare, however distant from 
them ; so if we are members of mystical Zion, we will 
rejoice in her prosperity, and flourishing condition, though 
we be in the utmost parts of the earth. Surely, then, if 
I remember the Lord afar off, as I ought, Jerusalem will 
also come into my mind. 

" How, then, have matters stood with Zion, in the land 
of my nativity ? What success has the glorious gospel 
had ? how have tlie flocks been fed ? how have people 
profited in the day of their merciful visitation ? how has 
vice been suppressed, and religion prevailed ? how has 
truth been defended, and error exposed? how have the 
oppressed been relieved, and the heritage of God water- 
ed? what sons and daughters have been born in Zion? 
and are the true worshippers of the Father increased ?'* 
These things, amidst all my other concerns, should go 
nearest my heart, and the interests of Christ's kingdom 
should be my first concern, wherever my habitation for a 
time may be, hoping he will bring me again, and shew me 
both himself and his habitation, *' If I forget thee, O 
Jerusalem ! let my right hand forget her cunning ; if I 
do not remember thee, let ray tongue cleave to the roof 
of my mouth, if I prefer not Jenisalem above my chief 



-ll?~ THE TBAVELLE^. 

med3:tation LXXB. 

TJie patience of God very great » 

Leghorn. April 6, 1T59» 

TiiTJLY it astonishes me that God spares those aban- 
ijoned wretches, who day by day grow more wicked, and 
set their blaspheming tongues against the very heavens, 
and miiltipiy rebellion against God. Truly it sup rises 
me. that that vengeance which they so often invoke, is 
not poured down on them ; that that power which they 
so often dare, does not destroy them ! but God will mani- 
fest himself to be Ood by his adorable patience, as well 
as by his terrible justice. Let me suppose that the sub- 
jects of a certain great king rise up in rebellion against 
him., but by hip superior power are routed, reduced, and 
all made prisoners ; that royal clemency makes out a 
pardon for many, who are so sensible of the unmerited fa- 
vour, that they throw aw3y the weapons of their rebel- 
lion, and ever after live the most obedient, loyal, and af- 
fectionate subjects that can be ; but that others are ap- 
prehended, tried, condemned, and cast into prison, till 
the day they are to be brought forth and broken on the 
wheel ; that in the mean time the stubborn wretches keep 
railing and abusing the prince, and spewing out their ma- 
lice to every one that passes by, till it reaches the royal 
ear ; yet that it could not so incense the king as to cause 
him to send and tear the rebels limb from limb an hour 
before the set time. Even so deals God with sinners ; he 
exercises amazing forbearance, not willing that any 
should perish, but at last he will punish awfully, and suf- 
fer no sinner to escape. 

Do I, then, envy them their few peaceful years ? or 
would I, like the disciples of old, fetch down consuming 
flames from heaven to burn them up, before he come in 
flaming fire to take vengeance on his enemies ? No j let 
mercy reign her time ; for with respect to the wicked, 
mercy shall soon quit the throne to inexorable justice, 
arid then their misery shall be past expression and their 
01 erflQv\ring anguish shall exceed the fountain of their 



THE TSATBLLEK. 185 

MEDITATION LXXHL 

Delusimi. 

Leghorn, April 9, 1T59. 

Anong all the various kinds of delu<<ion, that which 
concerns the soul, I'eligion, and God, is most melancholy, 
and has the most dismal effects. Some, because born in a 
religious family, account themselves Christians from their 
cradle, and give themselves no concern about the new 
birth. Others think all is vvf^Ii v/ith them, because they 
are neither swearers nor liars, ti; jakards nor fornicators ; 
they are just between man and man, have a form of godli- 
ness, and hence think themselves in a fair way for heav- 
en, though ignorant of spiritual union to him who is the 
life of the soul, and quite unacquainted with a life of 
faitli on the Son of God. Again, there are others who 
have been very wicked in their younger days, have been 
in the army or navy, and then and there have conimitted 
all wickedness with greediness. Now% if these men are 
separated from their wicked companions, and live where 
sobriety is more in fashion, they drop their oaths, and go 
regularly to church : and if they have entered into the 
married state, and prove faithful to the marriage-bed, 
then they count themselves converted, and bless their 
happy state, though they have never undergone, and 
know nothing of a saving change. Though the most 
wicked are at all periods of life invited to return to God, 
yet what numbers perish through delusion, are averse to 
try themselves, and build for eternity on sand ! Not to 
speak of the delusions of popery, which makes a mer- 
«handise of souls, there are some who, because ihsy have 
had some legal terrors, some awakenings, and some reso- 
lutions to amend, though ignorant of the new birth, 
think they are converted : and some in the decline of life, 
feeling death fast approaching, begi^ to be startled at 
dissoliUion, and affriglited to plujage into eternity, con- 
denm the grosser actions of tlieir life, and their ill-spent 
time, and so, to make amends for all. read much in the Bi- 
ble, and other religious books; but still the sin of their 
aature lies out of si^ht : nor do they advei't to this, that 



184 THE TRAVELLER. 

a man must be born again, else he shall never see the 
kingdom of heaven ; and yet such men pass for converts 
spiong the men of the world. 



MEDITATION LXXIV. 

OTrseeing slaves at work. 

y^ Leghorn, ApriliO, i759. 

To what hard circumstances are some fellow-creatures 
reduced I These poor men are in bondage, without any 
expectation of freedom till death deliver them. Are 
not their heavy burdens and severe labor punishment 
enough, Avithout dragging the iron chain, which, locked 
about their ancles, links them two and two, or couples 
them like dogs together ? and yet, as if all this were not 
severity enough, see the armed soldiers attend them eve- 
ry where ! 

So, O sinners ! and worse deals satan with you, and 
yet you will not leave his service, his slavery, and be- 
«X)me Christ's Cree men. 

Whence is it that the men of the world, the sons oi 
vice, think the saints of God shackled and confined, and 
that themselves only are free ; and assume the title of 
libertines and free-thinkers, when indeed they are fet- 
tered drudges, narrow souls, and bond-slaves ? The 
saints, and they alone, walk at liberty, being ransomed 
from their cruel captivity by price, and delivered by 
power. 

These slaves have hard labour, but a coarse and scan- 
ty diet ; so, when sinners weary themselves in the fire, 
they are fed, but with wind, and their belly filled, but 
with the whirlwind. 

They are under the check and controul of soldiers, 
who are commonly the dregs of the people ; so the sin- 
ner is under the check of the meanest passions, under the 
influence of the most sordid lusts, and sees not his mise- 
Satan, like this prince,* makes the men that run in his 



i 

dl 



* The grand duke of Tuscany, who was sovereign oi Leghorn. 



THE TRAVJfeLLliR. 1^5 

service, tlrag along with them all the signs of slavery, and 
badge? of bondage, which it is possible for them to be loa- 
ded with ; and they es^en weary themselves for very va- 
nity. Their pleasures pierce (what can slaves enjoy?) 
and giv^e pain ; their joys are acid, and their enjoymsnts 
full i)( torment. All that they can possess themselves of, 
ias still a deiiciency ; and yet they hunt after shadows, 
and pursue imaginary bliss. Moreover, satan, like the 
centries of these poor slaves, is still pushing sinners on to 
works of darkness, and the reward at last is more shame^ 
more sorrOAv, and more torment. 

Though these men toil hard all the day, yet at night 
they have not a soft bed to rest thereon their weary limbs ; 
so the sinners that weary themselve; cc commit wicked- 
ness all the day of life, at last lie dov:n in sorrow amidst 
devouring flames. 

Indeed these poor creatures have the night allowed for 
their repose, but sinners often pass the silent night in 
scenes of darkness, and their very dreams are filled with 
the rambles of the day. 

Again, these are slaves through life, but death unlocks 
the fetters, and knocks off the chains, and gives them per-* 
feet liberty : but with the wicked it is not so, for if grace 
deliver them not, death only seals their slavery, and shuts 
them up in the prison of the bottomless pit. Oh ! melan- 
choly truth, that satan's slaves should be so man^/, and s* 
content with their sad condition, though death and hell 
attend its latter end. 



MEDITATION LXXT. 

Quaraniinc. 

Under sail near Sardinia, April 21, 1T59» 

It is a laudable practice among these nations, to make: 
all ships, that come from places where the plague no\T 
and then appears, perform quarantine ; and during that 
time to forbid their own people all correspondence witk 
the suspected crews. If it is commendable to be careful 
«f' the welfare of a nation, how culpable is that church 
that receives ojr keep in ter communion persoHS ixmiox^ 



186 THF TRA.VELLEK. 

in their life, or unsound in the faith. How dangerous in 
private persons, who pretend to be religious, to contract 
acquaintar^ce, intimacy, or friendship with men of loose 
morals or libertine principles. O my soul I come not thou 
into their secret, into their society I How cautious should 
we be to mingle in the company of the wicked, where 
we are sure to suffer one w ay or other ! And our care 
herein ought to extend to all the connections of life- 
Would I live in the same city with men dying daily 
of infectious diseases ? would I admit into my house per- 
sons to serve me, if laboring under the plague ? and w^ould 
I take into my bosom that person, in other respects how- 
ever amiable and dear, if full of the pestilence f How 
agreeable, then, to have the fearers of God, the citizens 
of Zion, for the men of my city? to have Christ's free 
men for servants in my family ! and such as have an inte- 
rest in Christ for my nearest connections ! 

Some suttlers adventure along-side, and sell for an ex- 
travagant price such things as we want, and cannot go 
ashore to purchase ; they pretend not to touch us, but 
at arm's length, iind w^ith a board too, to reach out the 
commodity, and receive the money : Even so, men for 
the love of gain will go erery length ; w^ill risk not only 
the peace, but the salvation of their souls, for a temporal 
advantage. O to see things in their proper light, and 
not put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter ; time in the 
place of eternity, and eternity in the place of time ; the 
creature in the room of God, and give God no room at all. 

The longed for duy arrives, when the officers of health 
inspect the crew, pronounce us clean, and permit us to 
come ashore ; and then w^e mingle in every company, ap- 
pear in every place : Even so, when Jesus, in that memo- 
rable day, a day longed for by the lovers of his name, 
acquits his saints before an assembled w^orld, they shall 
rise to heaven, walk the streets of glory, mingle with an- 
gels, and dwell forever with God* 



THE THAVELLER. 18T 

MEDITATION LXXVT:. 

The Needle. 

May 5, 1T59. 

Of what excellent use is the compass to the mariner 
ill his course from one comitry to another ! It is his guide 
over the trackless ocean, so that the darkness of the 
night sliortens not his sail, nor turns hini out of tlie way. 
By this he reaches the remotest parts of the world, and 
adventures out into the unmeasurable main. By this the 
trading nations stand and flourish, and kingdoms share 
mutually the commodities of one another. Even such is 
the everlasting gospel, such the word of God, to the ra- 
tional world. By this we reap the blessings of paradise, 
and are enriched with the productions of the better coun- 
try. By that mariners plow the wide ocean ; by this we 
launch into unbounded eternity itself. 

The usefulness of the needle rises from the magnetic 
virtue with which it is impregnated, and which makes it 
point always to the pole ; so the excellency of the scrip- 
ture is, that it came not by the will of men, but holy men 
^pake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost ; and there- 
fore it leads all who will attend to its instructions only 
out to God. Now, as one piece of metal, capable of re- 
ceiving the magnetical influence, will communicate it to 
another piece of the same metal ; yet, whatever way the 
virtue is received, when properly susf jided, it points not 
to the load-stone, but to the true pole ; so the scriptures 
and the ordinances never teach men to rest in them, but 
to rise to God, the chief good, and ultimate end of all ; 
and to thispiu-pose all inspiration points, and all teach- 
ing and preaching tend. 

How deplarable were a ship at sea without its compass I 
and no le«s so were the world wanting revelation, with- 
out which they could not find the haven of glory. What, 
then, must the misery of those nations be, who sit in gross 
darkness I and the cruelty of those who will not let the 
poor people look into the words of eternal life ! 

But, alas I for all this noble assistant of navigation, 
haw many ghips perish in storms, or mistake their reckon* 



iS8 THE TRAVELt^R. 

ings, and are Mshed on rocks ! Even so, in the Christian 
world, for all this divine guide, how many make ship 
wreck of a good conscience, perish amidst the storms of 
temptation, in the dark night of defection, and, by oppo- 
f^ing error to truth, dash against immoveable rocks, and 
are lost for ever. 

The load-stone is in no respect so useful to the seaman, 
as the scriptures to tlie Christian, by which errors are 
discovered, dangers disclosed, doubts discussed, darkness 
dispelled, and our eternal concerns laid open to our view. 
They are our cloud that covers us in the desert, a light 
to our path, our companion by the way, our counsellors, 
and our song in the house of our pilgrimage. 

The compass is of little or no use at home, when we 
take up our fixed residence, and pass no more from shore 
to shore, from pole to pole : So, when the saints arrive at 
heaven, and take up their last abode in the divine pre- 
sence, of gospel ordinances and the scriptures, they shall 
stand in need no more. 

But again, how does that needle give a lively idea of 
the soul that is truly united to Christ ! it seeks its centre, 
and the saint says to his soul, " Return to thy rest, O my 
soul I" Take the compass to w^hatever part of the world 
you please, still it turns to the pole ; so the saints in all 
conditions, and in all places, still seek to Christ ; and like 
the Jews in captivity, who prayed with their faces toward 
Jerusalem, so the saints in their pilgrimage have their fa- 
ces towards Zion, their hearts heavenward, their conver- 
sation in heaven. 

Indeed it is possible to toss the needle from its pole, but 
see in what confused motion it agitates, and never rests 
till it has reached its centre again ; so the spouse may 
miss her Beloved, but she rests not seeking hira every 
where, and asking at every one she meets, " Saw ye him 
whom my soul loveth ?" nor gives over the inquiry till she 
find him, and, with all the vehemency of divine affection, 
embraces him in the arms of her soul, with a resolution 
never to let him go again. 

The attractive power in the magnet is a secret in na- 
ture, for no visible change is in the needle more than be- 
fore ; it is by the effects that we know it has been touch- 
ed by the load-stone, in its attracting, and being attrac- 
ted, and turning to the pole : So the new birth, the i^i- 



THE TRATELLER. 139 

ritual union between Christ and the soul, is an unsearch- 
able mystery that no finite creature can explain ; for there 
ig a glorious change made in the man,, yet the man is not 
changed : he continues stiii a man, human, frail, change- 
al le, mortal, possessed of the same feelings, powers, pas- 
sions, only they are ail directed into a noble channel, an<i 
by this the change is known. 

Finally (to add no more) as the needle is always in a 
tremulous motion, though pointing toward its pole, be- 
cause of the restless ocean on which it is, and the false 
attraction with which it meets ; yet, when the ship is laid 
up and the compass set on solid ground, the needle will 
point to its pole for ever, without the least hair-breadth of 
variation : feu is it with the saints. They endeavour to 
make God the rest and centre of their souls ; yet in this 
day of sin and sorrow, in this vale of misery and tears, 
where false attractions surround them, their dependance 
is not so entire on him, their faith not so firm, nor their 
communion so close as they could wish ; but when they 
are translated to the highest heaven, a three-one (iod shall 
be the rest of their souls, their centre and sole delight for 
£ver. 



3IEDITATION LXXVII. 

In a Roman Catholic church. 

May 18, 1759, 

Ah 1 what a poor figure does human invention make 
in the worship of God! Where a superstitious shew pre- 
vails, godly sincerity decays. The expences here are 
great, but the profit none. They have lifted up the gra- 
ving tools of human invention on the altar of God, which 
renders it polluted. To what purpose are all these sta- 
tutes, images, and paintings? to what end so many re- 
presentations of a suffering Saviour ? The new life is be-- 
gun by the operation of the Spirit of God, and not hy 
an inspection of pictures; and Christ formed spiritually 
In the soul is the end of revelation, but not to cut him , 
OVt by the tool of the statuary . It is true, here he standi^ 



190 THE TRAVELLEIU 

Avith all the signs of agony and pain, the pricking thorns 
are wreathed about his head, and the blood is streaming 
down on every side I but who is this ? did I not know 
the story, did not the superscription tell me, I should take 
him for some great malefactor that was so cruelly used? 
A man, indeed, in all imaginable anguish, is cut out to 
the life, where the skill of the artist, but the folly of the 
contriver, eminently appear ; but nothing more appears, 
not one beam of his divinity shines forth. If he were 
no more than what this statue sets him forth, a poor, in- 
firm suffering mortal, our hopes would have died with 
him, but had had no resurrection : it might excite our 
sympathy as to a fellow-creature, but never claim our 
faith as a Saviour, Christ the Lord. The union of the 
two natures in one person, and his substitution in the 
room of sinners, is the interesting mystery, and basis of 
i'eligion. Now, what painter or limner, what sculptor 
or artist can exhibit this? how vain, then, their incen- 
tives to devotion I Yea, though our Saviour w^ere yet 
alive, his humanity could not be the object of adoration ; 
hence he reproved the young man for calling him " Good 
Master," seeing he considered him not a?, (iod-man, but 
only as man : and so says the apostle, " Yea, though we 
have known Christ, after the flesh, yet henceforth know 
we him no more.'* Streams rise no higher than their foun- 
tain, so that their unwarrantable representations give me 
at most but a faint view even of human suflfciings. The 
dumb statue emits no melting cries, no throes and twist- 
ings of the body, or varied distortions of the countenance, 
no affecting sighs, or agonizing groans ; still the tears 
stand in one place, and the falling blood is not succeeded 
by more, because the tears have no fountain, and the 
blood no veins to aflford a supply ; so that to read the in- 
spired account gives the C hristian a more perfect know- 
ledge and striking view of his sufferings, than all the mas- 
ter-pieces of the best painters. But when they give but 
a faint view of bodily sufferings, w^hat can set forth the 
agonies of our Saviour's soul, which like wax before the 
fire, was melted in the midst of his bowels, and was pour- 
ed out like water?. Can they paint the strokes of divine 
vengeance which. he bore for us, or depict the hidings of 
his Father's countenance, which gave so deep a wound? 
These are things for faith, not for sense ; and it is the ex-« 



THE TRATELLER. 191 

ceiiency of faith that it can and may intennetlclle witk 
divine things, while sense must stand at a distance. 

As images strike our fancy, and impressions of them 
abide with us, a dumb image stands before us, when w'e 
adore the living God; so that in effect we are praying to 
an idol, rather than to the Searcher of hearts. The idp- 
lators of old represented God by an ox, calf, fire, sun, 
man, and such-like, with which he was displeased ; and 
the idolators of late represent the incarnate God, as a 
scourged, bleeding, suffering creature, with which he is* 
no less displeased. But J must form no idea of God, that 
gives figure, limits, or bounds to him, because he is infi- 
nite ; my soul must go out in my prayers, in the immen- 
sity of his perfections, and I must make my plea the me- 
ritorious sufferings of Jesus, which no art of man can set 
forth, as the Spirit of God can to the eye of faith in the 
renewed soul. 



MEDITATION LXXVIIL 

In a hot climate^ 

Gibraltar Bay, May 18, 175^. 

What frail creatures are we the sons of men I yet 
how madly bold, that dare contend with God, when heat 
or cold, increased but a fcAV degrees, becomes intolerable 1 
Here, in this southern clime, how scorching is the noon- 
day sun ! the earth receives so many solar sparks of fire^ 
that sand and stones almost burn the naked skin that 
touches them. Now, if it is so hot so many degrees from 
the meridian, what must it be there, by the sun darting 
down his direct beams ? and if carried nearer the sun still, 
how must the heat increase, till approaching the burning 
orb, we find it all one material fire, one substantial fiame ? 
Now, saints and sinners are like the inhabitants of the 
world, some dwelling in a mild, some in a scorching cli- 
mate. O miserable condition of the wicked, who change 
from ill to w^orse, till their misery can admit almostof no 
increase, but in the eternity of it I Here his anger vSjporch- 
•,es, and hereafter his wrath consumes them. O ! who 
kno^-^s the power of his wrath ? Now they can put up 



152 THE TRAVELLER. 

Willi their case through stupidity, though they 
inward solid comfort ; but how will they stand when 
oceans of boiling vengeance will roll over them for ever? 
when they shall be set under the burning beams of inex- 
orable justice, and fiery indignation ? Our sun, even at 
his surface or centre, is mild compared to his displeasure 
who kindled that sun, and set it in the firmament. 

Just now my head is pained with the beating of the 
sun-beams, and all my members lifeless ; every pour pours 
out my strength, and every fibre of ray tongue pants for 
the cold spring ; but there a rock presents itself, whose 
friendly height takes off the schorching beams, and hides 
me from the heat. — Now that I am arrived, how refresh- 
ful to stand in the shadow here, while all is parched and 
scorched around me. So, and vastly more, desirable is 
Christ to the soul that is scorched with Sinai's fiery fiames» 
and ^stands panting under the burning waathof an offended 
.God. The God-man " is an hiding-place from the wind, 
a. covert from the tempest, as rivers of waters in a dry 
place, and the shadow of a great rock," which neither 
melts before the heat, nor transmits it on the fainting 
pilgrim " in a weary land." My body is sensible of this 
covert from the heat; may my soul be as sensible-of thy 
diviner shadow ! Some rocks are parched with drought, 
but the Rock of ages has the fountain of salvation flowing 
from him. I must leave this rock, though refreshful, 
otherwise I cannot pursue my intended journey ; but in 
the shadow of the everlasting Rock, I must rest for ever, 
else I shall not be able to reach the end of my journey, 
the land of promise. To ray comfort I find refreshing in 
the Rock of salvation, even all that is needful in my pas- 
sage heavenward, till I arrive at glory, become an inha- 
bitant of the Rock for ever, and shout mine everlasting 
song from the top of the mountains of bliss. 



MEDITATION LXXIX. 

Fishers. 

^ Gibraltar Mole, May 31, 1T59, 

Here, on the shore of this ^ ast sea, where innumera- 
ble creatures are, I stand, and am entertained to see the 
various methods fishers try to entangle the finny tribe ;, 



I5HB TRAVELiKR. 103 

.sftttifi With the hook and bate suspended on the water, 
others with the bait sunk quite to the bottom ; some use 
the insignificant earth-worm, and succeed therewith, and 
what they catch with it they make a bait for larger fish j 
others use all sorts of nets, and spread the sail, and ply 
the oar in pursuit of the prey, and thus catch some of alt 
kinds. 

The ocean is the world, where all the sons of men sAvim, 
every one pursuing his own game ; and it holds truer of 
them than of the scaly family, that though they too often 
devour one another, yet they have their common enemy, 
the old serpent, the blood-thirsty dragon. Now, of those 
whom satan makes a prey, some are taken with baits of 
pleasure, others in the snares and nets of temptation, at 
first as it were against their will, through the reproofs of 
a natural conscience, or the efifects of a religious educa- 
tion, but in a little are taken captive by him at his wilL 
Again, how does satan make use of one man to ensnare 
another, and draw him to hell ! How often do evil com- 
munications corrupt good manners, and companions of 
fools are destroyed ! Therefore how careful should we be 
to shun the company of the wicked, for no sooner has sa- 
tan made a prey of one soul, than he makes him a bait for 
others ; and whomsoever this old serpent stings, be instils 
such a poison into them, that they can do nothing but 
sting others to death, though they themselves be mortally 
wounded. This may look strange, because some men^ 
though they have no religion, appear very sober, but at- 
tend them a little, and you will find nothing but carnali- 
ty, deadness, earthly-mindedness, breathe through all they 
do and say. 

At shore and at sea fishers are busy to unpeople the 
waters, fowls from above feed on them, and fishes through 
the whole deep prey upon one another ; but man's con- 
dition is still worse, for, though he has enemies behind 
and before, dangers on every hand, and satan watching at 
all points, he is also his own enemy. 

But, on the other hand, O that the waters that issue 
out of the sanctuary would come into the great sea, to 
heal the Avaters, whither the curse has already come, that 
every thing might live. Let the gospel, that contains 
this Ilood of life, spread through the world with healing 
1 e 'f'^^v f-rfBtnre ; and let men of all ranks and ooadl- 



194 THE TRATEIiLER* 

lions be taken in the net of the gospel. Let the fishers 
stand all along the banks, and be successful in catching 
souls, and winning them to Christ, out of every tribe and 
tongue under heaven. 



MEMTATION LXXX; 

In a southern cUmate* 

These southern climates certainly, as to fruitfulness, 
have the better of our northern isles ; and when the tra- 
veller tells the entertaining account of spreading vines, 
and shady fig-trees, the beautiful pomegranate, and nour- 
ishing almond, the fragrant orange, and cooling lemon, 
with every other rare and useful production, it kindles a 
«lesire in others to possess them, and makes them bless the 
inhabitants of such fine and fruitful countries. But were 
the relation full, and the account faithful to every parti- 
cular, it would make thein bless their situation in a land, 
where the mountains are sometimes covered with snow-, 
and the waters concealed in ice. Did they rehearse the 
dangers and difficulties found there, Avhere the lion roars; 
after his prey, where bears and tygers range for bloody 
where scorpions instil torment with their poison, and ser- 
pents sting to death; yea, where, though free from all 
these nnsfortunes, the scorcliinggun fatigues even to faint- 
ness, and the beautiful day by extreme heat becomes a 
burden ; I say, were the delights weighed with the dan- 
gers, the fatal incumbrances with the fruitful productions, 
it would cast out ambition, bring in contentment, and 
make us settle with pleasure in what we might call the 
barren spot. Thi§ is a real truth, and an interesting in- 
ference may be drawn from it, whereby we may regulate 
our wrong notions and blind opinions of rich and great 
men. Like the fruitful countries, they are only happy in 
our esteem, because they seem to lie under the meridian 
of worldly felicity, and sun-shine of prosperity ; yea, 
we are confirmed in this opinion, because the better part 
lif their condition only is told us, as travellers do of the 
tine, but foreign fields. With them, however, it too of- 
tcrt fares as with the^i^ fertile lands j for worldly gf an- 



THE TRATELLElK. 195 

4eur has the roaring lion of unbridled lust often let loose 
on it, with all the train (more destructive than the tyger, 
bear, and other beasts of prey) of unruly passions, be- 
sides the unnumbered swarms of poisonous thoughts craw- 
ling over all the powers of niind. Now, though prosper 
rity of itself brings not forth sins, any more than the heat 
of these climates creates hurtfoi creatures, yet there they 
grow, and find large pasture ; while sanc^tified affiiction, 
like a cold and northern climate, has none of these in- 
cumbrances. 

Were ihe life of great men, to their secret thoughts, 
iaid before us, th«y would appear far from being so happy 
as we suppose. Their ambition, their emulation, their 
jealousies, their projects, their disappointments, their 
chares, their company and confusimi, hinder them to enjoy 
themselves as men ; yea, should all these remove, the 
abundance of their wealth will not suffer them to sleep ; 
and, take them in the general, whatever they may be in 
this world, they are, a few excepted, far from being hap« 
py with respect to the world to come. 

The world, then, is like a great body which God has 
made, and tempered so that there should be no schism in 
it. He has lessened the pleasures of the sweetest climes 
by some real disadvantages, and sweetened the most dis- 
agreeable spots by some noble accommodations ; that 
man, who is but a pilgrim, may be pleased with every 
place where God may cast his lot, and neither boast of 
liisown country, nor despise the native places of others. 

Again, the same is in the world of mankind, the ra- 
tional body, that there should be no schism there. Hence 
the poorest man has as much sweetness in his condition 
(bodily health, exercise of reason, peace of mind, obe- 
dient children, &:c.) as blunts his grief; and the greatest 
man has as much gall, (corroding anxiety, insatiable ap- 
petites, broken constitution, pensive thoughts, peevish 
temper,lnward disquiet, &;c.) as acidulates, or embitters 
his joys. This should render men content with that sta- 
tion God has placed them in, and not to expect perfect fe- 
licity below ; for every man thinks happiness is in ano- 
ther, not in himself, which proves that there is not one 
possessed of it on earth; but he comes nearest it who is 
most content with his own condition and present circum- 
stances m every respect, not either murmuring at cross^f- 



19G THE TRAVBtLEE. 

when they come upon himself, or envying others who 
seem to be exempted from them ; and keeps his mind on 
the better country, where all glorious beatitudes shall 
be enjoyed without any thing to lessen the felicity, or 
abate the bliss. 



MEDITATION LXXXI. 
On a court-martial, 

Gibraltar Bay, j4ugust 8, 1759. 

Etery law is made to restrain from vice, and bind to 
4uty, and eveiy nation has its own code of laws, milita* 
ly and civil. The martial law is accounted severe ; and 
there is a necessity for it, because mutiny and disobe- 
dience to orders, cowardice in the time of action, and de^ 
gertion to the enemy would have the most fatal effects. 
But whatever be the offence, a few considerations would 
Bot be improper at such a time for the members of the court 
inartial. 

1. To do to the pannels, in their circumstances, as they 
would wish to be done to themselves if in these very cir- 
cumstances. 

2. To mind that an example and admonition to others 
is costly when at the life of an individual. 

S. To pass no other sentence on the meanest than they 
would do on the highest for the same fault. 

4. To consult how they can answer to their conscience 
and to God, for their decisions, deaf to every thing but 
justice and humanity. 

5. To incline rather to the side of mercy than severity ; 
and thus to imitate God in his most amiable perfection. 

6. To reflect if they are as strict in punishing sins 
against God, as desertion against^hdr Sovereign, and of- 
fences against themselves ; and to consider whose honour 
should be most attended to. And, 

7. To lix it in their mind, that in a little they must 
stand before the tremendous bar of God, where all dis* 
tinctions cease. ' No more the sovereign and the subject, 
the admiral and seaman, the captain and the soldier, the 
judge and the panneL 



But from the proceedings of these courts I may learn 
instruction ; for if earthly kings so punish deserters, will 
not the King of glory deal awfully with the hackslidens 
in heart ? Those he has vouchsafed to know, and taken in- 
to his honourable service, shall suffer severely, if they fall 
away from him. Sinners in the Christian world gliall have 
the hottest hell.; and of all sinners, those who once tasted 
of the powers of the world to come, shall suffer the most 
excruciating torments. 

Again, this may remind me of that day when not only 
actions shall be tried, but even my inmost thoughts exami- 
ned, and not one concealed. The sentence of this court 
only respeets the body, and must be executed in time, 
though in the execution thereof, it should finish time to 
the icriminal ; but the sentence of that tribunal reaches 
ray soul in all her powers, and stands in force, and is put 
in execution, through the endless ages of eternity. O that 
it may be a sentence of absolution and peace! 



MEDITATION LXXXII. 

^n some who were burnt by a quantity of gun^powder^ catch^ 
ing fircy in time of an engagements^ 

TXnder sail, August 19 , 1T59, 

Materiai. fire sometimes in its effects is terrible. 
What can be quicker, and more transient than the explo- 
sion of gun-powder; yet what direful effects has it had 
on these poor men whom it only seemed to touch as it flew 
•along! So dismal, that even those who have lost their 
limbs are objects of delight in comparison of them whose 
visage is blacker than a coal ; whose beauty is marred, 
and whose countenance cannot be known ; whose skin in 
pai'ched and falleth off from their flesh ; and, to sum up 
the whole, whose pain, though external, has kindled such 
a fever within, that the frame of nature suffers; they 
iiave and pine away, till the scene is finished in death. 

Now, can I look on these miserable patients without 

^ Six men were niserably burnt at o!be ganduriMJthe c^»?iS£2m(Mif^ 
^tngust 17, s»nie ©f wli«w <lied. 



198 ^HE TRAVELLER. 

letting my reflections shoot away, and fix on the world of 
^irits, on such of them as are suffering the vengeance of 
eternal fire ? Ah I what a shocking sight is a tormented 
goul, and what miserable spectacles will the damned be, 
when soul and body are united to suffer in the fire that 
shall not be quenched, and by the worm that never dies ! 
the most lovely person will be a loathing, and the most 
beautiful an abhorring to all flesh. When a passing flame 
that goes but skin-deep, produces such dismal effects, 
what soul can apprehend the torment of those that are 
sentenced to the flames of hell ? Who can dwell with de* 
vouring fire ? (think on this, ray soul, and study to escape) 
who with everlasting burnings? If the productions of 
nature and human art can be so destructive, how mucl^i 
more fierpe must that fire be that is not blown, that flams'^' 
that is not kindled by created invention ? 

There are some antidotes against the scorchings of 
material fire, but none agaitist the burnings of devouring 
wrath. Here the poor patients are perpetually sipping 
some cooling liquid to allay their thirst within, but there 
not one drop of water can be had to cool their scorched 
tongue, who swim in seas of fire, mingled with brimstone, 
v/hich go into their v^ery souls, tormenting every part, 
agonizing every power. Here, in these poor men one 
part suffers, and the rest sympathize ; but there every 
part, every power suffers, and none can sympathize. 
Surely, were the covering takeii off hell, and the world 
allowed to look into the burning lake, they v»^ould drop 
down dead in a moment, the saints in a transport of jovj 
that they are to escape the flames ; and sinners in the"an- 
guish of despair, that they are to plunge into thera at 
their departing moments. Now, seeing these things are 
not dreams, why Vv^ill not we awaken to our danger an4 
0Ur duty, and be wise before it be too late ? ' 



MEDITATION LXXXIII. 
Cna scoengageifiient, fouglit August IT."^- 

August fL2, 1T59. 

Sin is the source of all human miseries, making men, 
%vho should like brethren live together, devour one ano- 
ther like the wild beasts of the field. The ocean, whicli 
is the boundary of kingdoms, by their invention, is made 
the seat of Avar ; hence the briny wave is tinged with hu- 
man blood; and dangers, unknown to the land, surround 
us, for we may be blown up in a moment, or in the twink- 
ling of an eye go down to the chambers of the deep* 
Besides, what can be a more terrible scene than so many 
great guns thundering mutual destruction, darkening all 
with smoke, and spewing out fire and death ? The loss of 
officers, the groans of the wounded, cause no intermis- 
sion till the vanquished yield and strike to the conquerors. 

Now, if the wrath of men, who themselves are crush- 
ed before the moth, be so fierce, and if it be terrible to 
meet an enemy, though formed of the clay, how much 
jnore so to meet the God of forces, the Lord of Sabbaoth, 
in his burning wrath ! How awful, ineffable, and trtv- 
mendous, beyond conception, must be the thunders of his 
incensed right hand ! When the hour of patience is past, 
the thunderings shall begin, but who shall be able to stand 
before them through eternity ; compared with whose 
bolts, the broadsides of a firsi-raie are but the falling 
drops of morning-dew ; for who knows the power of his 
^^ath; the terror of his vengeance? 

But, agviin, the sons of men reprove the expectants of 
a future world. When they see they neither can escape 
nor overcome, but mu^t perish unless they strike their co- 
lors, anon they yield themselves prisojiers, arid live : but 
sinners are obstinate to the veiy last, though tliey jCan 

* The engagement refened to, is that of Admiral Boscawen with 
the Toulon fleet, commanded by M. de la Clue. It was fought a 
little without the Straits, and lasted five hours Three of the enemy's 
ships were taken, and two burnt. The Portland, on board of which 
the author was, engaged the French Admiral for nearly an hour before 
she received assistances Her loss was very considerable, yet du^* 
ring tfee first hour's fighting, not w* ^w ^^« woundeja. 



W9 THE XRATELLEK. 

never fly out of his haad ; yea, the rebeliion of their , 
heart remains, though the Lord God of recompences pui> 
ishes them through eternity. 

Again, what a lively representation of our uncertain 
departure is here ! One who is now well is in a moment 
no more, and is taken away from the midst of his com- 
panions into the world of spirits, unconscious of the 
stroke that finishes him, till felt! When the engagement 
began, many might hope to share the honor of the victo- 
ry, and to divide the spoil, who, hy a sudden death, are 
disappointed of all ; so, many in the prime of life, when 
projecting .great schemes, are cut off by a fever, or a fall, 
and must leav^ his affairs in extreme confusion. How 
^reat is the folly of man ! Though nothing concerns him 
-so much as deatli, yet with nothing does he concern him- 
self so little ! Here a few hours close engagement cools 
the rage of the keenest warrior, and decides the contest ; 
how melancholy, then, must their condition be, who on 
seas of wrath, must bear the thunderbolts of Jehovah's 
right hand for an eternity, without intermission, and 
without any possibility of an escape ! On such a day as 
this, an enemy's powder and shot may fall short ; but thfr 
magazines of vengeance are infinite, and the perpetual 
frown of him who is angry with sinners eveiy day, will 
protract their agony and torment with their existence. 



MEDITATION LXXXIV. 

. ;, 0?i Prisoner Sc 

■Under sail, August BO ^ ITS^*. 

One consequence of war, at lea^t of victory, is, that 
some are made prisoners ; aiid among contending armies 
ou ttie day of battle, prisoners are made on both sides*. 
By the laws of civilized nations, they are treated with 
sympathy and tenderness, as becomes fellow-creatures and 
prisoners of war ; yet their best situation has always 
something in it disagreeable, and (by the cruelty of those 
who forget the golden rule, to deal with others, imevery 
.s/?tuationj as they then>sdves would choose to be d^h 



THil THAVELLEE. 201 

^ith if in the same condition) something almost intole- 
rable. For, 1. Though they are fed, yet their allowance 
is not the same with the king's servants. 2. They have 
not the privileges of the ship's crew as to bedding, but 
are crowded together in an uncomfortable confinement. 
S. No confidence can be put in them ; hence, though we 
should chance to engage an enemy, as they could not be 
trusted to fight, so they would not share in the honor or 
advantage of the victory. 4. Though in the day-time 
they s ometimes mingle with the ship's company, and par- 
take of their liberty, yet they have always the badge of 
bondage, being attended by sentries, and at night are se- 
parated and put under double guards, and so remain till 
the ensuing morning. 

This is the fate of many in war ; but, alas ! a worse^ 
fate attends the rational world, where all are prisoners, 
and bound with the fetters of sin, but such as walk at 
large in Christian liberty. And though the wicked en- 
joy liberties and riches in common with others, yea, more 
than others, yet '' a little that a righteous man hath is 
better than the wealth of many wicked ;" for if a little 
where love is, be better than an house full of sacrifices 
with strife, surely a very little, with the love of God, is 
better than great riches with his curse. 

Now saints and sinners meet and mingle in the same 
assemblies, join in the same societies, and share the same 
privileges ; yet the one always drags the heavy chaia 
about with him^ is a slave to every lust, the servant of sin, 
the captive of the mighty enemy, and the prey of the 
terrible destroyer; but the other, being delivered from 
these, walks in the glorious liberty of the sons of God. 
While sinners feed on swinish husks, and break their teeth 
with gravel, the saints are allowed to feast on heavenly 
manna, and to drink of the vrater of life. The first lies 
down among thorny cares, disquiet, terror, and remorse ; 
but the last has a sweet recumbency on the love of God, 
takes his rest in the promise, and finds it a couch that can 
ease his pain, and remove hif complaint. 

Again, as these men are separated and classed together 
at night, so, at the night of death, the wicked mingle no 
more with the righteous; for while the souls of saints 
soar aloft to everlasting day, and their bodies rest in the 
peaceful grave till the joyful resurreption, the gpi;:its of 



S02 TilE TJRAVELLEJtJ. 

sinners are sliut up in the prison of hell, and their bodies 
in beds of corruption till the general judgment. A little 
time brings about the freedom of our captives, they are- 
set at liberty in a few months perhaps, and at the longest 
when the war comes to an end ; but should the war conti- 
nue as long as they live, yet death shall deliver them from 
the power of every mortal, and translate them into the 
world of spirits ; but those that are risen up in rebellion 
against God, he shall shut up in hell, and pour forth his. 
vengeance on them for evermore. 

Finally, we may see the depravity of the world in the 
conduct of our friends, who would condole more our be« 
ing taken prisoner by an enemy, and losing all we had. 
than they bewail our natural, our unrenewed state, our 
loss of the image of God, of heaven, and of glory. 



MEDITATION LXXXV. 

A reflection on the Royal PsalmisPs expression, Psal. xlii. T, 
*' All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me."- 

Near Guernsey^ June 3, 1758. 

O ASTONISHING comparison of an ineffable excess of 
anguish I *' At the noise of thy water-spouts, deep cal- 
Jeth unto deep," that both may meet together, to heigh- 
ten the flow of my misery to the last extremity. Now, 
from the tossing of this restless ocean, I may somewhat 
learn the force of the metaphor. Here, then, many weaves, 
many billows dash upon us ; nor do a thousand preceding 
waves, or ten thousand foaming billows, that have spent 
their fury on us, stir up pity in the raging flood that forms 
itself into dreadful billows to fall on us afresJi, and that 
in all quarters, not like the regular course of a rapid tor- 
rent, but like the random surges of an unruly ocean. The 
sea-sick pas^ngers aboard find no compassion, but reel 
and stagger if they attempt to walk ; and if they sit are 
thrown from side to side ; nay, though we were hanging 
for life upon the very WTeck, the briny deep would cover 
ns in its cold bosom, or, dashing us from wave to wave, 
would spew us on the shore. 



THE TRAVELLER r ^OS 

Now, if nothing mikler than the ocean, not in halcyoa 
days, but when wearing all its terrors, when roaring, and 
raging with universal contusion, w^hen covered with ten 
thousand wrestling waves all eager to destroy, urged on 
by succeeding billows, and, raised by the ruffiing tempest 
from the foaming deep, could desci'ibe the condition of 
the psalmist, who was a saint, a favourite of heaven, in 
the day of God's withdrawing end hiding himself^ though 
but for a moment ; w^hat shall set out the eternal anguish 
of those from whom he is gone for ever ? Wliat billows 
of eternal wrath, what surges of divine indignation, shall 
overflow them for evermore ! There, in that state, their 
misery is w ithout mercy, their sea has no shore, and their 
ocean no bound. Hence I see, that if God is pleased to 
shine on the soul, all crosses are sweetened, all afflictionh; 
lightened, and the man made greatly to rejoice ; while 
if he hides himself, even blessings wear a gloom, and eve- 
ry thing lowers, till he arise again w^ith healing in his 



MEDITATION LXXXVI. 

On a short hidisposition . 

Two days ago, flying pains perplexed rne, and made 
me turn and toss from side to side, seeking what I could 
not find, ease to my w^eary body. The indisposition tilled 
nie with disquietude, scattered each composed thought, 
and fixed an acute sense of pain. Indeed I soon got the 
better of it, but may I thereby be instructed of the fierce- 
ness of the torment of the damned : and let them who have 
cancer, gout, stone, or any other grievous complaint, 
think what torment must be, and thereby study to escape 
w^hile there is left a way to escape ; or to prize their de- 
liverance (if delivered) from so great a death as the se- 
cond death is, where all is torment in the highest degree ; 
w^here the bed is burning brimstone, the chains and fet-' 
tersof fire and flame, their horizon the blackness of dark- 
ness for ever, their companions devils and damned spirits; 
and where every part is on the very rack, and nothin|; 
iVee of torment. The most aciite agonies which we feel 



204 THE TRATELLE8. 

in time, would be a kind of pleasure and delight, in com-^ 
parison of the torments of hell I 

What shall people, labouring under excruciating disea- 
ses then think, if they have no hopes that death, which 
must end the disease, shall raend the matter? O then, to 
be wise in time, and to be taught by every indisposition 
to mind the concerns of an unseen world, for who knows 
the power of his wrath ? and if I can scarce endure a lit- 
tle pang in one part, how shall I suffer torment in every 
part and power, in every sense and faculty, through the 
whole soul and whole body, and that ages without end ? 



MEDITATION LXXXVH. 

On putting out a light. 

Off iJie coast of France^ June 8, 1T58* 

The place I dwell in being secluded from the solar ray, 
is obliged to a glimmering candle ; and when that is ex- 
tinguished, total darkness prevails at once. This puts me 
in mind of the more mournful situation of the natural 
man, the unrenewed soul, that stumbles in darkness, and 
walks in the midnight gloom. While the saints walk in 
the rays of the Sun of righteousness, and rejoice in the 
light of his countenance, poor sinners dwell in the region 
and shadow of death. Let them boast of the glimmer- 
ing light of reason ; it can no more direct them about 
the affairs of their souls, the interests of eternity, than 
we can survey the midnight stars by the light of a candle. 
But faith beholds spiritual things, and takes steady views 
of eternal excellencies. With what reluctance do we re- 
member the wicked, who " caused their terror in the land 
of the living I" and how does their memory stink when 
dead, like the snuff of that extinguished candle ! And 
as there is no light, no spiritual illumination in them, so 
at death they are driven from the light of life, the light 
of hope, and the light of the gospel, into the darkness of 
utter despair, and into the eternal storm and tempest of 
God's devouring wrath. And is this the last, but lamen 
table end of the wicked 1 while the righteous, on the oth- 
er bi+ii(1, like the m<^rning-?tin, concealed l>y fhp di^irt'g : 



THE TRAYELLEi?. 205 

ylouds of worldly meanness and contempt, sliine m(?re 
and more unto the perfect day, grow from grace to grace, 
till, fixed in the firmament of glory, they shine celestial 
suns. Let my light, then, be spiritual, my happiness 
that which is hereafter, and my glory that which shall be 
'revealed. 



MEMTATION LXXXYIII. 

On dividing the spoil. 

In all ages of the world, so great has the joy of raeu 
been on this occasion, that it has become proverbial, " as 
men rejoice that divide the spoil :" and no wonder. To 
tome off in safety from the field of battle, while not only 
foes, but fellow-soldiers fell around them ; and to come 
off victorious, and find themselves possessed of goods they 
never labored for, of riches they never expected, must 
swell their breast with transport and joy. And this joy 
of theirs in the severest manner reprimands me for not 
being filled with more joy in believing, for not thinking 
more of him who is more " glorious and excellent than 
the mountains of prey." Now, though the metropolis of 
this kingdom (the gleanings of whose villages create this 
cheerfulness) were robbed of all its wealth, and laidfin 
one heap; and, to swell the wonderful pile, though all 
the stores of the silken Indies, the gold of Ophir, and the 
precious stones of every land, were added ; yea, to make 
the collection perfect in its kind, though all that ever hat? 
a place in the museum of the philosopher, the cabinet of 
the curious, or the treasures of kings, Avere amassed toge- 
ther, till the heap rose isito a hill, or swelled into a moun- 
tain, from which the slaves might gather crowns and 
sceptres, the poor treasure in abundance, and the naked 
shine in silks and cloth of gold ; yet thou art infiuitely 
more excellent than this mountain of prey, and that on i% 
double account. 1. Nothing here is for the soul, all is 
for the body. 2. All these things must be torn from the 
posses.'-orin the hour of death, and cannot attend him to 
another world. But Christ satisfies all desires, replenish- 
<;s the whole soul, makes happy in time, and happy to 

3? 



206 THE TRATiXLEB. 

eternity, and is a portion every way commensurate to tiie 
unbounded wishes, and immortal nature of the soul. Why ' 
should the saints less rejoice than these men that divide \ 
the spoil, when in a little the King himself in person shall 
deal crowns and thrones, kingdoms and dominions, yea, 
the goodly heritage of the hosts of nations, to every saint 
above ? 

This spoil, if it enrich the conquerors, impoverishes 
the conquered, and perhaps has cost many of them their 
lives ; but Christ may, in all his offices, relations, fulness, 
and glory, be the entire possession of every particular 
child of adoption, without diminution or injury to any 
of their happy fellow-heirs. 

Some who engaged the enemy fell down slain, and are 
now where a whole world of these trifles, which afford 
survivoi-s so much joy, would not be accounted worthy of 
a wish or a glance for ever. 

Henceforth, let me rejoice at thy word as one that 
findeth great store of spoil, and esteem the word of thy 
mouth better than thousands of gold and silver. I shall 
never be robbed of the heavenly treasure, Avhich scatters 
my fears, dispels my despondencies, enriches my etemityj 
and ravishes my whole soul. 



MEDITATION LXXXIX. 

A daily catechism for seamen, 

March ^25, IT^^: 

1. How do I like the company of the wicked, and thes 
converse of ungodly men ? 

2. Is their swearing as disagreeable to me as when I '► 
came first aboard ; or am I more reconciled to their bias- a 
phemous talk ? 

3. Is my abhorrence of sin the greater, the more I se^ 
of sin? as a man's fears increase with the increase of hi§ 
foes, so should my hatred of sin with the increase of my 
danger. 

4. The more that I am beset with snares and sin, am I 
the more watchful against sins and sjiares ? 



THE TRAVELLER. 201 

J, Have I forgot to look into myself in the midst of 
this liurry and confusion? reflection is a duty which no 
situation can loose me from. 

6. Does the reaction of sin reiterate my giief and ab- 
horrence of it ? or, like a lion's keeper, venture I to sport 
Avith the destroyer, from which at first I started ? 

7. Do I resist the first appearance of sin ? for sin, as 
well as strife, is like the letting out of waters, which at 
first appears a little spout, but as it passes along pushes on 
every side, till it spreads into an impetuous torrent, which 
nothing can resist, and therefore should be left off before 
it be meddled with. 

8. Does the impiety of the company, or any other.hin- 
drance, prevent the performance of secret prayer, on rea- 
ding the scriptures, as formerly ? 

9. Is the sabbath still strictly observed by me, by my 
keeping not only from bad actions, but idle words and 
vain thoughts? 

10. Am I careful to purge myself from all the sins 
which I have heard through the day, by reflecting on 
their vileness, protesting against them in mine own breast, 
dipping by faith in the blood of sprinkling, and praying 
that wherein I have been guilty in a greater or less degree, 
I may be pardoned ? 

11. Am I studious to draw the more near to God, the 
more that all things would drive me from God ? and to 
beg of him, that according to my days and demands for 
aid, so my strength from him may be ? 

12. Am I ready to drop a word against vice, or in fa- 
vour of religion, without regarding ridicule, not knowing 
where a blessing may light ; or that at least they may 
know that there has been, if not a prophet, yet a repro*» 
ver among them ? 



MEDITATION XC. 

A proper inspection. 
Lying off the French coast, June 8, 1T58. 
At ail times men ought to examine their state, and fit- 
ness for going into another world ; more especially when 
oW age has overtaken us, or the pestilence ii in outr bar 



208 THE TRAVELLER. 

tiers ; or when called into the field of battle, or into the 
dangers of the roaring ocean. Now, as we may be sur- 
prised at any time by some event, we should be prepared 
at all times for every event. And, as one of these situa- 
tions is at present mine, it is ray duty to propose some in- 
tere sting questions, to try myself thereby. 

1. Am I content with salvation from Christ on any 
terms, that he be my complete Saviour, and that I be no- 
thing at all? 

2. If I believe, is my faith dead ? or is it a living faith, 
working !:»y love, and bringing forth the fruits of right- 
eousness ? 

3. Do I love God ? " He that loveth not, knoweth not 
God, for God is love ;" and love to God and man is the 
fulfilling of the whole law. 

4. Do I love the saints, and esteem the poor but piou< 
ones, more than all the pompous sons of vice ? " He that 
loveth him that begat, loveth him also that is begotteti 
of him.'' 

5. Is it my desire, that in all things God may be glori- 
fied, though it were by my dishonour and loss ? 

6. Do I choose rather to be the proverb and reproach of 
fill the ungodly among whom I dwell, than to advance 
one word against religion ? 

7. Do I hate sin in its profits and pleasures in myself 
and others, because God hates it, and it ruins souls ? 

8. Do I rejoice more in hope of the glory of God, than 
in view of possessing all that the world can afford ? 

9. Is the exercise of religious duties the secret delight 
of my soul ? 

10. Do I faithfully strive against all sin, and count the. 
victory over one lust a greater conquest than the taking 
a city ? 

11. Am I entirely resigned to the will of God in all 
things, being not only contented, but comforted with his 
disposal, though sometimes not what I would wish ? 

12. Is death often in my mind, judgment and eternity 
in my meditation ; and am I always studying to be mor- 
tified to sin, and crucified to the world, that I may live to 
Christ? 

13. Is the v/ord of God the light, life, comfort, food, 
and inheritance of my soul, into which 1 daily seek and 
/earch? 



THE TRAVELLER. 30^ 

14. Is sin growing more and more my burden ; and arc 
iiiy struggles after perfection more vigorous than before, 
and more constant? 

15. Am I, through grace, ever searching my ways, ex- 
amining mine actions, looking into my heart, and watch- 
ing over myself? 

16. Is my desire of life mostly to serve God, and not to 
enjoy the pleasures of sense, but to be useful even in the 
matters of religion ? 

17. Is communion with God the delight of my soul? 
and have I more joy in the fore-thoughts of that frui- 
tion which the saints expect, than in all present va- 
nities ? 

18. Have I daily recourse to the fountain of purifica- 
tion to be washed from my filth, and to be accepted in 
the Beloved ? 

19. Do I remember Zion in her affliction, Jerusalem in 
her calamity, being filled with a zeal for the declarative 
glory of God ? 

20. Dare I venture my eternal welfai'e on his gracious 
word of promise, that whosoever believes in kirn shall be 
saved; and that no sin shall condemn the soul that casts 
itself on Christ? 

21. Do I believe that the love of God is unchangeable 
that his gift and callings are without repentance, and 
that at all times he is at hand, nor will desert his own in 
their last moments ? 

If I could return an affirmative to each of these que- 
ries 4t would shew me to be in a happy state, at peace 
with God, and in some measure prepared for the other 
world, so that I might go with undaunted courage to thp 
day.of battle, and fearless tread the field of blood, leaa- 
ing on Christ alooe. 



MEDITATION XCI. 

On a great storm of thunder, lightning, aiid rain. 

Lying off France, June 9, 1758. 

Dark is the night, but dismal the flash that scatters 
the darkness. At times the whole heaven seems in a 
hhize, M'hJle material streams of fire twinkle in our iisto 



210 THE TEAVELLER. 

nislied eye, and dart across the skies ; then iremendoug 
thunder roars, and whole clonds descend in heav;^ rain, 
while the noisy wind blows with impetuous force. Now, 
durst the atheist yet deny a God 1 Would not his con- 
science answer to the flanies of fire, his troubled thoughts 
agree to the language of the thunder, that there is a Pow- 
er above, that rules events gbelow ? When the night is 
so dark, the lightning so dreadful, the thunders so loud, 
and the rain so incessant, can any ascribe aH to blind 
chance ? Nay, the atheist himself must confess and 
tremble ? 

But, O sad effects of sin I wliat fills the pious soul with 
fear, and a secret sense of the power and greatness of 
God, drives the wicked into sin. They fear, but they 
swear ; they are troubled, but they transgress. How 
terribje, then, will that day be, when the Judge shall como 
in flaming fire, to take vengeance on his foes ! when flames 
(jhall dwell in ether, the skies be kindled, and cities, king- 
doms and continents, be cast into the burning embrace I 
when thunders bursting from every cloud, around tie 
whole sky, admit of no interval, but with one continued 
loar terrify all the nations, till silenced and lost in the 
sound of the last trumpet, which the dead, hitherto undis- 
turbed, shall hear! 

AYben fire and water in conten*k>n or elements at v.ar 
are so terrible, how much more terrible must the God oi 
nature be, when, arrayed in awful majesty, he comes to 
take vengeance on his enemies ? Lest we forget his great- 
ness, nature preaches to us, raging tempests and rending 
v/ihds turn our remembrancers, flames of fire unfold our 
lesson before our eyes, and roaring thunders awaken gur 
meditations. As in his temple every one talks of his glo- 
ly, so in his tent (for whi*.h he has stretched out the hea- 
vens) every thing shews forth his power. Fire, rain, va- 
pour, stormy wind, lightning, hail, snow, and thunder, 
praise him. Then, since in all things, I may see God, 
may ray soul ever go out after him, and above all things 
see him in the face of Jesus, as reconciled, and speaking 
VQPXQ to me! 



MEMTATION XCIX. 

-Oil being inter rupied in secret -pray ex. 

J-yi^^S ^ff Frmice, Jmie 13, IToS- 

jS'othixg can still the agitation of ray spirit, but tht- 
i3re-tboughts of perfect and eternal liberty, into which 
the sons of God shall shortly be delivered. Little needs 
the world without, disturb our retired moments ; there is 
enough within to distract our meditations. But, O thrice 
happy day, which is approaching on the out-stretched 
wings of the promise when I shall stand among a nume- 
rous throng of adorei^, worshipping before the throne, 
with the eye of my soul fixed on him that sits thereon ; 
and not one of the many thousands of eternity shall dis- 
turb my adorations. The eye of my mind, the flow of my 
srtFection, and the flame of my love, shall eternally fi:^i on 
-4he divine object, from whom none shall draw one thought 
taway. Here my circumstance is doubly calamitous ; for j 
ihough the busy throng should not break in on me, there 
iis a throng of base distracting thoughts already within 
2ue, that will not be at rest; but there, as nothing shall 
disturb without, so nothing shall distract within. Not 
one trespassing thought, not one trifling idea, not a mo- 
tnent lost, nor one expression unbecoming the sacred sub- 
ject, but all wrapt to the subliraest height of ecstacy ,* 
and every adoration of God, who is a Spirit, shall be in 
spirit and in truth — shall be without intermission through 
•an indefatigable immortality, without interruption thro- 
consummate perfection, without wearying through incon- 
ceivable joy^^nd delight, and without end, through an 
eternal duration. 

MEDITATION XCIII. 

On the armour of soldiers, 

I'ying off Nonnandy^ June 13, ITao. 
When I behold the warlike race, and their glittering 
*rms, how well they are accoutred for the field of battl^, 
^t no less than royal expence ; W puts me in niiad of hifri 



who is Prince of the kings of the earth, and has an army 
maintained at much imraenser cost, harnessed with much 
diviner armour, engaged in a more bloody war, against 
more desperate foes, but, supported by Almighty strength, 
are assured of conquest and a crown at last. 

How are these men burdened with instruments of war 
wherever they go, for a soldier is but a poor man with* 
out his arms I Even so the spiritual soldier must never be 
without his armour, for the better armed, he finds him- 
self the stronger. Besides, this is the word of command 
by the Captain of the Lord's hosts, to his armies : " Put 
on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to 
stand against the iviles of the devil ; for ye wrestle not 
against fiesh and blood, but against principalities, against 
powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, 
against spiritual wickedness in high places. "Wherefore, 
take unto you the whole araiour of God, that ye may be 
able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to 
stand. Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about 
with truth, and having on the breast-plate of righteous- 
ness, and your feet shod with the preparation of the gos- 
pel of peace ; above all, taking the shield of faith, where- 
with ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the 
wicked ; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword 
of the Spirit, which is the word of God ; praying always 
with all prayer and supplication in the spirit, and watch- 
ing thereunto with all perseverance, and (not forgetting 
brother-soldiers) with supplication for all saints." 

But one thing I see, these men are allowed to carry no 
toys or trifles with them, only their arms, ammunition, 
and necessaries ; so " no man that warreth" against hell, 
" entangleth himself with the affairs of this life, that he 
may please him who hath chosen him to be a soldier." 

Again, these men are only safe, in setting their face 
always against their foes, being naked behind ; so there 
is not a promise in all the scripture for the saint that turns 
bis back before the enemy ; while, if they resist, even 
their grand enemy shall P.ee from them. 

These ^oor jjrivates, as well as their commanders, must 
be in the hottest battle, encounter all the dangers, and 
perhaps fall in the engagement ; but the Captain of our 
salvation has for i\% both fou2;ht and foiled ihf foe, swept 



'tME a:.PvAVEiLEai. SIS 

irne field of battle, of principalities and powers, so tbatwe 
are only called to return to the spoil. 

Finally, how happy are Christ's soldiers, in comparison 
of these military men ! The one is wounded often to 
^eath, the other is made always to triumph ; the one has 
a scanty allowance ev^ery day ; the other has access to all 
the fulness of God. The one is disbanded at last, and 
sent, when least able, to beg his bread and die in pover- 
ty ; the other shall at last receive a crown, and be taken 
to dwell with the king eternal, immortal, invisible, for 
^ver I 

Let the potsherds of the earth strive with the pots- 
lierds of the earth for earthly things ; but may I fight ou 
the side of Heaven, against sin and hell, for a heavenly 
ci'own, a crown of glory that fadeth not away 1 



MEDITATION XCIT. 

,All things made up in Christ, 

"Quiberon Bay, May 11, ITGO., 

jcijVERy one is subject to so many losses here, that, un- 
less he has a share in the bank of bliss, he may soon be- 
come impoverished of all his enjoyments, and be a bankr 
I'upt as to felicity. Bat what an enriching privilege is an 
interest in Jesus, whereby I am insured against all losses, 
and furnished for all misfortunes !' for though in the world 
I may have tribulation, yet in him who overcame the 
world, shall I have joy. It is true my nearest and dear- 
est friends may be removed by death ; but in him I have 
a store of dearer and diviner relatives. My riches may 
fly away as on eagle's wings, but in liim I have the trea- 
sures of etei-nity ; so that it is but for a moment, and ia 
the meanest things, that I can sustain any loss. My 
jiame may be reproached among men, but here is a divine, 
antidote against that, that my name is written in the 
Lamb's book of life, Vv^ko will confess it before his Fa- 
ther, and before assembled men and angels. My soul 
may be troubled, and my mind broken, but iniiim Ihave 
health and tranquillity for lx)t,h, for he alone giveth qui- 
«tne^?. and when he giveth it, none cm cau^e trouble?- 



214 THE TRATELLliit. 

My soul may be troubled, and my mind broken, iuut in 
him I have health and tranquillity for both, for he^alone . 
giveth quietness, and when he giveth it, none can cause 
trouble. My soul desires much, but in him is more than 
my soul can desire. My wants are great, and my neces- 
sities many, but in him I find an overflowing abundance 
that supplieth all. My situation for a time may be lone* 
ly and desolate, but in him I find the divinest company, 
the dearest converse, and in his presence a paradise be- 
low. Sin and sinners may cause me daily sorrow, but in 
him that saves from both, I have abundant consolation. 
The things of this world may all seem jointly to go 
against me, but in him the things of the next world shall 
all assuredly make for me. I may wander from one place 
of the world to another, and be persecuted hither and 
thither for his sake ; but he, who is every where present 
shall be ever with me, and nothing shall be able to sepa- 
rate me from his love. My comforts may all fall off, like 
the blasted blossoms of the orchard ; but in him ten thou- 
sand more noble comforts shall flourish, and never fade 
nor whither. Every day may bring me new disappoint- 
ments (and what else should I look for in a perishing 
world ?) but in him I shall never be disappointed, even 
to eternity. Here infirmity may often break off my no- 
blest exercises ; but in a little I shall put on the immorta- 
lity of bliss, and rest neither day nor night in his prai- 
ses, yet never be wearied. Here doubts and darkness 
may distress me, but in him is my direction and my light. 
In a word, I may be a complication of wants and adver- 
sities, crosses and calamities, disappointments and distres- 
ses, sorrow and concern ; but, in a word again, whatever 
my exigence can demand, whatever my soul can desire, 
is fully, wholly, and eternally in him. Therefore, though 
death in a few moments may advance to put a period to 
my time, and cut me off from the world below, yet then 
shall my felicity begin, when, to sum up all my bliss, en- 
joying the fellowship of the world above, I shall for ever 
lJ»e with the Lord. 



THE TRAVELLER. 2ij 

MEDITATION XCT. 

The Birth-day, 

Quiheron Bay, 3Tay 30, 1T60. 

The ol3servation of nativities seems to be both ancient 
and universal, but by none more splendidly kept than 
those, who, not attending to the end of their creation, 
have but little reason to rejoice that ever they were born. 
Of old, a king's birth-day, in its consequences, cost our 
Saviour's forerunner his head ; but at many such feasts 
now-a-days, the Saviour himself is crucified afresh, and 
put to open sherae. 

Surely to be is desirable, but to be happy is much more 
so ; and who can claim this, but such as remember the 
day of their death oftener than the day of their birth, 
and choose rather to go to the house of mourning than 
the house of feasting? If joy belongs to any on their 
birth-day, surely it is to those, who not only know, that 
on such a day of the year they become one of the nume- 
rous family of mankind, but also can, by solid arguments, 
and on good grounds infer, that, by the second birth, they 
are of the family of the living God. Though Job and 
Jeremiah, in their anguish, cursed their day, yet when 
the storm passed over, their souls returned to their quiet 
rest, and irreprehensible joy: however^ he who only 
waits for the manifestation of that glorious life, which 
kas neither change nor end, may, to the praise of God, 
ivith an exulting breast, talk in an opposite strahi : " Let 
the day prosper wherein 1 was born, and the night in 
which it was said. There is a man-child conceived. Let 
that day be brightness, let God regard it from above, and 
let the light shine upon it. Let light, and the beaming 
iiope of eternal life, beautify it to me. Let serenity 
dwell upon it, and the brightness of the day banish every 
gloom from it. As for that night, let the beauty of the 
day be spread upon it ; let it be joined and added as a re- 
markable day to the days of the year, and let it come 
chief to me among the number of my months. Lo, let 
that ni^ht be soleaim and sweet, while my anthena imi* 



ii6 rHE JCRATHiLS^jSf:. 

tates the song above, and my soul, oa wiiigs of faitk^ 
mixes with the adoring multitude on high." 

There are a variety of arguments against carnal feast» 
Ing on ray birth-day. Had I come into the world laugh-* 
ing, I might live feasting, and die rejoicing ; but as I 
came in weeping, and breathed my first breathing in dis- 
quiet and cries, so it teaches me to live sober, and die se-' 
rious. Since we are all born under the curse, a\ by such 
a noisy commemoration of tliat day, when another sin- 
ner first burdened the earth, when another rebel against 
Heaven first breathed the common air ? But if we are to 
acknowledge it as a mercy that we were born, as no doubt 
it is, yet it is not the way to show our gratitude to the 
Most High, by pampering perishing clay. God will not 
be praised over our cups ; then his name is often blasphe- 
med. Such a practice is consistent in an idolatrous Bel- 
shazzar and his guests, towards gods who neither see nor j 
hear, but he who is a Spirit will be spiritually honored. 

A back-look on my life, may hinder carnal mirth ok j 
its commencement. Sin and vanity tv^^isting with every [ 
day of my life, should make me consider on my birth-day 5 
with more enlarged views than the sons of sense can take,- 
how 1 4iave fallen from the noble end for which I was 
created, howl have sinned, and come short of the glory 
of God, I who have an immortal soul v/ithin me, tliat 
shall live to eternity. 

One thing, however, I should consider, that since I 
came into this world, many thousands of my contempora- 
ries have gone into the unseen world. The spreading fo- 
rest of my acquaintaiice is fearfully 'thinned by the fee- 
ling axe of death. It is a chilling thought, that so many 
of my companions, who lately made a figure in the gay 
world, are now wrapt up in an eternal gloom. Many' 
of my school-fellows and comrades, of my friends and 
neighbours, are now no more ; yea, into my father's fa- 
mily, since I made one of the number, death, though aot 
a stranger before, has made five desolating visits, besides 
the redoubled blows, that made me fatherless and mother- 
less; and though, in unbounded goodness, I survive, yet. 
all these occurrences cry to me, that I also in a little must 
remove, and be no more. 

In this contracted span, there are not many now who 
reach three-score years ; yet, at such a calculation, my 



san is at his height, my day arrived at noon ; and shall I 
not yet put away the follies of youth, when I knoAV not 
but ray sun may go down at noon, never more to rise? 
Then henceforth may I be the man, yea, more, the Chris- 
tian, and spend every year as my last, perfecting holinfess 
in the fear of the Lord, laying hold on every opportuni- 
ty to do good, observing the cpnduct of Providence to- 
wards me, and doubling my diligence in the duties of re- 
ligion. And, as I am drawing nearer the unseen world, 
so by thinking the oftener on it, I should prepare the 
better for it. And as noon is succeeded by night, so 
with loins girt, and lamp burning, I should expect the 
evening of death, and the coming of my great Master, 
rather astonished that the shadows are not sooner stretch- 
ed out, than surprised as being unprepared, that they are 
stretched out so soon. 



MEDITATION XCVI. 
Time past never returns^ 

Under sail, June 15, lt58. 

Foolish man thinks he is born to live to himself, and 
that he is lord of his own time, to spend it as he pleases ; 
but alas I he is mistaken, for he should live to God, and 
spend his time to his glory. How watchful, then, on a 
double account, should I be over my time; first, because 
I cannot recal it when past ; I cannot bring again my 
childish years, or fetch back my more advanced days. 
Now, on the sea, I cannot recal the time I spent on iand;^ 
nor, when at land again, this time I spend at sea ; yea^ 
I cannot lengthen out the miuute, or make the passing 
moment lie ioo^ till I finish the sentence. I cannot say 
to time, as Joshua once did to the sun, '^ Stand thou still,'^ 
for it is in continual progression. The sand-glass of my 
Jife pours down night and day ; and though the gradual 
waste seems trifling, yet how soon shall tlie last sand be 
/un, and not a dust left I and then there is no turning of 
the glass again. 

Secondly, As time cannot be recajled, so the things 
'^r>V:i^ in time fgrmot be disamjulled. I myn^ninn^^ n^y 



213 tflE TBAVELIEB, 

deeds, unspeak my words, and unthink my thoughts. It 
Xvould be less galling, did time fly off in a blank ; but it is 
full of records, for as it is always on flight, so the soul isr 
never idle, but is at work night and day, Avhich we little 
think of. How would it mitigate our mouraful reflec- 
tions, if we could get our wicked deeds undone, and our 
bad actions annihilated ! but still they are actions once ^ 
done, and stand on record, to shew either the mercy of 1 
God when we are pardoned.^ or to condemn us when we 
are judged. I said time past never returns, and so itne* 
ver does, for us to mend what we have done amiss ; but 
mispent time is present to torment the wicked through 
eternity. 

How cautious should I be in spending time which is so 
precious, and on which so much depends I The past is 
entirely lost, the present is on the wing, and the future 
is uncertain. The past is mine no more, the future never 
may be mine, and the present is mine but for a moment. 
In the time pa^t I can do nothing, as it is already fled ; 
in the time present I can do little, as it is on the wing ; 
and in the time to come, as it lies concealed, I know not 
what I may do. So then the present breathing, this ve- 
ry twinkling, the single moment, and naked ?ioit', is mine 
without the least appendix of time past or to come, but 
in reflection on the one, and expectation of the other. . 
The present only is mine, which, while I use, wasteth, 
while I possess, passeth away. In a little the angel shall 
lift up his hand to heaven, and swear, by him that liveth 
for ever and ever, that time shall be no more. And as 
past time never returns, so the works I leave unfinished in 
time, cannot be wrought out in eternity. The foolish 
virgins ^vill find no oil to buy in the other world ; no ac- 
ceptable repentance in the pit ; no work nor device in the 
silent grave. 

I see, then, that every moment of time is of great con- 
sequence to one on whose time eternity depends. O to 
spend that well which is so valuable, till acquitted in 
mercy at the end of time ! Now, as time passes not to 
return, so all the things of time pass, both troubles and 
pleasures, never to return : but to render eternity, in ai! 
its beatific excellencies, a state of truest and sublimest 
happiness, it is a permanent, present, and abiding dura- 
ikm^ an eternal notr, that knows no after state, no fntu- 



THE li^ltAVELLER. £1^ 

hty, 01* succession of revolving periods. Then, May it 
he my happiness, that when time passes frome rae, never 
to return, an eternity of glory, to consummate my biiss^ 
may be present with me, never to pass away I 



MEDITATION XCVII. 

On ships sieemig different coy>r$es with the same wind* 
Under sail, June 10, 1T58. 

It is surprising that one wind should carrry ships to 
the different points of the compass, even to quite opposite 
points; but this is owing to the setting of the sails, and 
steering, of the helm. 

And is it not more surprising, that the same wind that 
forwards the saints heavenward, should drive the wicked 
nearer hell ? If the godly have the fair wind of prospe- 
rity, then, like Jacob, they confess their smallness, and 
that God has done all for them ; or, like David, come and 
sit before God, and pour out the ebullitions of a grateful 
heart ; or if the saints (which is frequently the case) are 
tossed with the rough wind of adversity, then they hear 
the rod, and who hatli appointed it, turn to him that smi- 
teth them, and see that it is good that they have been af- 
flicted, avowing, with that eminent saint, " Though he 
slay me, yet will I trust in him." But tlie wicked, if full, 
forget God, and wax wanton ; if they have no changes, 
they fear not God ; if Heaveii bestows plenty on them, 
they consume it on their lusts ; nor does adversity with 
them, mend the matter, ^or, like Ahaz, in their distress 
they trespass yet r»ore against the Lord ; and, like the 
remnant of tb<? Jev/s who were mad on idolatry, that 
very sin for which their land was laid desolate and 
their temple burnt, while s'^ffering for sin, they con- 
tinue in sin. The same crucified Jesus is a stumbling- 
■ block to the Jews, and to the Greeks foolishness, but the 
power of God, and the wisdom of God, to the t^ue Chris- 
tian. The ordinances of grace soften and improve the 
taints for glory, but harden and prepare the sinners for 
wrath. The patience of God leads the one daily to re*" 
]r»eatan«e, the other to presumption. The terrors of th«^ 



^£0 THE TBATELLER; 

X(ord deter the first from sinning, but drive tbe last to des- 
pair. 

Hence they may live together in one house, enjoy the 
same privileges, share in the same common mercies, rest 
in the same tranquillity, and be partakers of the same out- 
ward comforts and happiness ; or be visited with the same 
trials, walk under the same cross, drink of the same cup 
of adversity, and share the same afflictions ; and yet out 
of both conditions the one shall extract food and medi- 
cine, the other poison and death: by either wind the one 
shall arrive at heaven and glory, the other at perdition 
and woe. 

Hence may I, like the wise mariner, make the best of 
a contrary wind, of cross dispensations, and adverse pro- 
vidences, and, in spite of opposition, reach my happy 
port at last, having ray soul brought into a submissive 
frame to every turn of life and crook of lot that provi* 
dence may lay in my way. 



MEDITATION XCVIII. 

On being driven back to harbour, 

Jjying off Franccy June IT, 1758. 

There is an unseen rotation of circumstances accV 
dental to all conditions of life, which we cannot pro- 
vide against. Had we know n yesterday th^t we should 
have been driven back to-day, we had not left our sta- 
tion, nor undergone toil, danger, and damage. Even 
so, how many fruitless efforts have the sons of men made 
in pursuit of temporal things, where the people weary 
themselves for very vanity ! So is his fate who sets out 
for happiness below; for after a thousand tackings and 
turnings to the empty creature for satisfaction, still the 
^v^)fl of vanity and vexation of spirit, which spreads 
over the whole universe, and blows in the face of every 
son of man, brings him back, with boisterous squalls, to 
n here be first set out, to see his folly, and confess his 
mi take. So must the christian lay his account to meet 
With crosses in his course, for it is through much tribula- 
tion that we must enter into the kingdom. Often in th§ 



XHE TRAVELLER* ^X 

day of darkaess and tempest, the believer is apt to doubt 
his progress heavenward, and to think himself still in the 
port of a natural state ; but as the seaman, that would 
reach his desired haven, however often he be blown back, 
must still put to sea again, so the Christian, whatever 
storms and tempests roar around him, must still endea- 
vour to believe on his ill-sufficient Saviour, who with 
equal ease can save the sinner from hell as the saint from 
falling away. 

Again, as it is safer for a ship in a storm to stand to 
sea, than make the shore, lest she be wrecked upon the 
rocks that lie along ; go every disciple of Jesus is to con- 
tend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints, 
is to hold fast the form of sound words, is to avoid luke- 
warraness, hypocrisy and defection, lest thereby he be 
undone for ever. Finally, whatever the seaman does, 
the Christian must still hold on his course through storJirs 
and tempests till he arrive at the heavenly shore. 



MEDITATION XCIX. 

The spirits of just men made perfed. 

Lying off Nonnandy, June^ 1758 

Ma-NY are the articles of the heavenly bliss, many 
are the joys of the higher house, and the sweet society 
and company is no small part of the happiness of the 
general assembly and church of the first-born. AYhere 
sobriety is fashionable, we too little esteem the saints, 
these excellent ones of the earth; but when we are 
among the blackest sons of vice, we learn to compute 
otherwise, and clearly see the worth of the saints. Ac- 
cordingly, it is one branch of the blessedness of be- 
lievers, that they shall be brought *'to the spirit of just 
men." But, as even the gcdiy here-away are apt to be 
involved in contention, debates, and strife, and to have 
corruption breaking out now and then in them, which 
has often happened among dear brethren, and in the 
church ©f Christ, to the grief of many a heart, there- 
fore it is added. *' to the spirits c^f iust men made per- 
fect." 

a S 



£^ THE TRATELLEfl* 

Now, if the company of sinners, such a? I live among, 
be so disagreeable, how pleasant will the fellowship 
of these sanctified ones be, in the presence of the great 
Master of the heavenly family I Here sinners are, alasi 
e\^ry where most numerous; but then and there, not 
one sinner shall stand in the great congregation, not one 
wicked person in the assembly of the just. And as man, 
being a social creature, delights in company and con- 
verse with one another ( so says the proverb, " As iron 
sharpeneth iron, so the face of a man his friend,") wiU 
not the saints kindle in their love to God, from the lov^c 
of one another, by a sacred emulation who shall love him 
most, who has loved them with an everlasting and un- 
changing love ? Hence am I instructed in this world whom 
to choose as members of my family, even as my servants 
and what value to put on those who are religious, since, 
amidst all his failings, still " the righteous is more excellent 
than his neighbour." 



MEDITATION C. 

Going to engage. 

Now every thing is preparing to engage the eut- 
my, all hands are busy ; but all souls are culpably idle, 
though what the event may be, none can tell. Care- 
less of our eternal interests at other times, no wonder 
we are careless at our last! We knoAv not how soon 
we shall be in the terrors of death, as we are soon to 
be in the horrors of battle. How shocking to see men 
unusually meriy, when rushing into danger more than 
common ! To liv^e without faith, and die without fear, 
is not the character of the christian, who rejoices with 
trembling, and knows the terrors of the Lord. How 
stupid never to prepare for death, which, whether 
prepared for or not, may soon overtake some, and 
in a little will overtake all of us. Probably in a feAV 
hours, some of us will be arrived at our long home ; 
some disembodied souls stand before the awful bar ! I 
shudder at the thought I 

Our sympathising friends know nothing of oup dao^ 



-TllK TEATELLSR, 22S 

gei'ous situation in tlie contending moments, while 
oceans ruffled with storm ant! tempest rage around 
us, high winds and hurricanes roar above us, and the 
angry foes pour in death on us, with a noise terrible as 
thjB thunder, and awful as the lightning. How would 
our tender parents weep and wring their Kands, to see 
us in such danger, or in the cold embrace of death ! 
Every thing is tossed down into the holds, that could 
incommode us in the engagement; so at death we 
w^ould quit w^ith all the joys of life to live a little long- 
er, and must quit with all to die. Woe to the disputes 
of nations, woe to the pride of kings, that kindles this 
bloody uproar, and calls us all to our arms !■ — But 



k 



MEDITATION CI. 

Arguments to resignaiion.f 

June IT, 1T59, 



To encourage to submission and resignation, let me 
consider and believe these truths, and then see if I have 
any cause to complain, be cast down or fear. 

1. That the just Lord, who rules in the midst of his 
people, will do no iniquity. 

2. That he loves his saints with a love more indulgent, 
and every way more excellent, than they can have for 
themselves. 

S. That when he removes a comfort, or causes some of 
our blessings wither, like Jonah's gourd, our souls would 
receive greater damage by their being continued with us^ 
than by their being cut off from us. 

4. That when any affliction is sent, we would be grea- 
ter loosers by going without it, than by groaning undei' 
it. 

5. That whatever befals us, if we belong to God, both 

* The author appears to have been inteiTupted by the commence- 
ment of the action. 

t While the author was in the utmost parts of Europe, his wearest 
friend died eight days before writing^ the above, \\ hic1% he was iufoi'm' 
(Btl of sojiie months after i n Engknd. 



S^ THE TRATSLLH^. 

his glory and our good shall thereby sooner or later hft 
advanced. 

6. That no changes in the world can alter his love to,*- 
wards us, in which he rests. 

7. That it is not safe to have what God thinks fit to 
take away, or to escape what he is pleased to impose : 
therefore silence becomes us, whether Providence rem^ym 
eur relations^ or other joys, or heap troubles on us. 

8. That as God now sees, so we ourselves shall, one 
lime or other, see and confess, that all these afflictions 
which befel us in the world, were highly necessary for 
preparing us for the everlasting kingdom. 

9. That whatever affliction takes from us, or whatever 
bitter draught it puts into our hand, still there is enough 
in God to make up the loss of the one, and overcome the 
bitterness of the other. 

10. That it is better to get afflictions with a blessing, 
than mercies with a curse ; as Israel had their flesh in the 
wilderness with a vengeance, and their request granted, 
but leanness sent into their soul. 

11. That it is not safe to contend with God, nor quar* 
rel with the divine conduct, which cannot err. 

12. That submission and resignation in all things, and 
at Ul times, to the divine disposal, is our indispensable du- 
ty. 

13. That God, out of what at present seems the great- 
est evil, can bring the greatest good, and often turns our 
sorrow into singing. 

14. That besides the good which accrues to us here from 
afflictions, they work for us, by the divine blessing, a far 
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we 
look not at the things which are seen, being convinced 
they are passing, but at the things which are not seen, be- 
J)ig confident they are p^rmafient and eternal. 



J^fEMTATION CII. 

iJainis have, no cause to complain^ 

Dec, U, 1T60. 

•" Thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thiiie,^ 
is a privilege which raay compose the believer's breast io 
the most gloomy days, and amidst the most distressing vi- 
cissitudCvS of lot : for in this promise, which is sweeter 
than honey, and the honey-comb, the ear of faith rnay 
hear God speaking thus, *' Believer, canst thou for shame 
look sad, or grudge the temporal happiness of any, who 
hast the treasures of eternity reserved for thee ! Neither 
should it vex thee too much, that thy situation is not such 
as thou wouldstin a transient world, seeing thou art ev- 
er to be with me, where all my perfections shine, and all 
my glory beams forth." O how happy, then, are the 
saints of God, who may put on a cheerful countenance 
even in the general conflagration ; and if so, how much 
more under a few^ disappointments which are sent for wise 
ends, and redound to their spiritual good in the issue. In- 
vested with this celestial charter, well may we smile, 
though all nature frown, and triumph, though an angry 
world rage. By this w^e dwell in the sunbeam, and walk 
in endless light : nor need be greatly troubled at the loss 
of all things. But w hat do I say ? For how can the 
heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ, loose anything 
at all ? The thief only removes his stolen goods from 
one place to another ; how, then, can he that fills heaven 
and earth be stolen ? 'Ah I cruel unbelief only attempts 
the horrid sacrilege to steal Christ from the heart, but 
such a promise as this bids defiance to the monster ; and 
while we expect its fill accomplishment (nor let the time 
seem long) the day dawns, which ends the dark night of 
our sinning and suffering, and translatec^ us to the realms 
of bliss, where — but eternity only can declare what it is 
to be with him, whose presence makes a heaven, and 
whose love is better than life ; and what it is to enjoy all 
the fuUiess of the Godhead, as far as g^iorified creaturt;$ 
can% 



^t» THE TRAVfiLLEH. 

IMEDITATION Cin. 

Approaching Fruition, 

Hmnoaze, Dec. 28» 1T60. 

Still, ray soul, in spite of all thy fears, remember that 
the day-spring of eternity knows its place, and will ap- 
pear at the appointed time. Sin's gloomy night is far 
spent, and the morning drawing near, w^hen all the thick 
shades will dissolve in endless light. A kw revolutions 
will bring the longed-for day, w^hen he shall appear with- 
out sin unto salvation. A general shout shall welcome 
his second coming, and united hallelujah's attend the tri- 
umphant Judge (when sin and sinners are no more) to the 
highest heaven, w^here the bliss of saints and angels is 
complete, without the least shadow of change. O how 
sweet the warblings of celestial song, how fair the beau- 
lies of eternal noon, and how divine the glories of the 
throne I 

What must the promised land be in the etenial posses- 
sion, when the account of the tw^o faithful spies, faith and 
hope, backed by the divine record, is so ravishing ! Cre- 
ation can scarcely furnish fine enough materials for com- 
parison, much less for our bliss itself. There gold is but 
xhe dust of our feet, pearls the gates of our city, and 
gems the foundations of our walls. The sun is an extin- 
guished taper in the diviner blaze of glery. The stream 
and tree of life, at which we feed, continue us immortal. 
But all this is only the mdex of our happiness, for God 
reveals himself to every glorined saint in ways not known 
before, and then W'hat transport ^Is the soul, what floods 
of pleasure rise, and deluge every power of mine ! O 
how shall I lie dissolved in ecstacy through love's eternal 
day I But this abundance of joy|phall not have the ef- 
fect it has on earthen vessels here, to crack and crush 
them, but shall strengthen all my inward man, that I may- 
praise like angels, and love like seraphim. What rap- 
tures shall arise from that intimate communion my soul 
shall then enjoy with God, though now ray words cannot 
express it, and my thoughts cannot conceive of it I Then 
there shall not be the least remains of sin in my soul, not 
a wstndering thought, which now ».t my beet t?m§s trow* 



»les ttie, noc a frown in the countenance of God, and 
therefore no more grief or sorroAv. Then I shall fear him 
out of the purest love, serve him, and not be afraid ; ap- 
proach and come close to his throne, and yet not be ac« 
cused of presumption. I shall see him, and not die, and 
enjoy the nearest and sweetest fellowship with him for 
ever, without being in danger of a wound from spiritu- 
al pride. Then will God in very deed dwell with men, 
and in men ; and then, O how full shall my soul be of 
God, and how satisfied with the society of the heavenly 
in.haljitants ! God stamped on every soul, dwelling in 
every breast, possessing every thought, the subject of 
every song, and the object of all our love renders the 
whole celestial multitude happy, extremely and eternally 
happy I 



MEDITATION CIV. 

Infinite and eternal properties of the bliss above* 

Jan, 4, 1T61, 

Had I but one moment's glance of the glorious, thougb 
created sun, which, while I began to gaze, were conceal- 
ed, never to be seen again, such a view would only kindle 
an anxious curiosity, but not satisfy one longing desire ; 
even so, a passing glympse of the celestial glory would 
only set on edge, but never satisfy the holy appetite of 
the heaven-born soul. There is an immortality in my 
soul, and there is an eternity in my portion. Vast are 
the demands of the renewed mind, such as the whole cre- 
ation cannot satisfy ; but in God's sacred super-abund- 
ance, in his infinite fulness, there is enough and to spare. 
What divine harmony in all respects takes place above \ 
God, the enjoyment of whom is paradise and bliss, is in- 
finite, and eveiy faculty of the soul is capacitated, in the 
highest degree, to enjoy much of God ; and our divine 
communion and fellowship also is eternal. What keeps 
the worldling in perpetual angyiih, bnt because his por- 
tion here is neither complete nor permanent ? Yea, what 
would the bliss above be, if either infinity or eternity 
could be separated from it? for what would avail the 



1: 



S£8 THE TRAVELLEE. 

possession of crowns an^l kingdoms, nay, of more substaft"^ 
tiai bliss, if but for a moment ? and what would perpetu- 
ity itself profit, if spent but in gazing on a glow-worm, 
or enjoying a circumscribed good ? AVell, but it is other- 
wise here ; for when wafted to the higher house, to the 
heaven of heav^ens, I shall find myself in the midst of in- 
effable glories, and plunged among infinite beatitudes, 
and all the unbounded emanations of a 3>eity, whose eve- 
ry perfection may through endless ages employ the whole 
multitude of glorified admirers. But while his eternal 
excellencies possess my ravished powers, and all his good- 
ness passes before me, how would my infinite mind be 
pained that I can comprehend so little of this almighty 
all, if not comforted on the other hand with this, that I 
shall go on, and grow in knowing God through eternity I 
O eternity, eternity ! how much shall my soul know of 
God before ten thousand years are spert ! and yet these 
cannot diminish the eternal duration one moment I And, 
as my portion, even after all that I shall have seen, ador- 
ed, and enjoyed, will remain full and overflowing, being 
infinite ; so the time of possession, communion, and en- 
joyment, even after ages of bliss are elapsed, will always 
continue the same, being eternal. 



MEDITATION CY. 

Bad company* 

Hamoaze, January 11, 1T61. 

Sometimes our situation may be solitary, our friends 
being cut off from us by death, or we from them by dis- 
tance ; or our company may be such for a while as that 
the safety of our souls forbids us to converse with it. It 
is become customary with us to complain of this, and to 
cry out for the communion of the saints ; and indeed it 
must be owned, that as iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the 
face of a man his friend. Yet, if grace is at work to find 
God in every circumstance, even tliis prejudice may be 
turned into a spiritual advantage ; for, alas I I may fond- 
ly meet with my friends, and freely talk with them, and 
yet Christ have'Utt'le of the conversation, though the kirifl 



THE TRAVELtEB. .229 

Author of our bliss should often be the subject of our dis- 
course ; but when my company is such that I shun to sit 
with them, then I dwell alone, and seek after communion 
with God himself ; and while faith gets a view of his di- 
vine love, and dazzling perfections, I can neVer want mat- 
ter for meditation. 

Thus the right improvement of a cross, which in itself 
is heavy and afflicting, even sojouniing in Mesech with 
the sons of consummate folly, may produce the greatest 
blessing, even communion with the Most High. And, 
though I am not to expect a voice from heav^en to cany 
on a dialogue with me, yet, by his spirit speaking in the 
scriptures, and breathing on my soul, I may converse with 
God, and talk of the glories of the world to come. Yea, 
this situation, though in itself mournful, is not barren of 
useful instructions ; for I learn, 1. AVhat a pleasant place 
the church and Zion of God is, where saints may talk 
together of redeeming love, till their hearts burn within 
jthera. 2. That the expectants of the better country are 
too shy to tell to one another what God hath done fop 
iheir souls, that all may give him praise. S. That one 
-Christian is readier to receive hurt from the worldly and 
carnal discourse of another, than from the belchings of 
the profane ; for this drives him to God, but the other, 
though not to his profit, gains upon him by its seeming 
innocence. 4. That no confusion or confinement can 
hinder the rightly-exercised soul from walking at large 
in the promise, and with God. 1 may have neither field 
nor garden to walk into, and yet walk over the fields of 
i)liss, and take a tour through the paradise of God ; my 
situation may, in a great measure, forbid the use of my 
voice in my devotions, yet I may cry and be heard in th« 
highest heavens. 5. To admire and adore the goodness 
of God that turns all thing to the believer's advantage, 
who, when ask)ciated with men that seem incarnate dev- 
ils, may entertain heavenly meditation, and maintain 
communion with the God of angels. 6. To put a proper 
estimate on the saints ; to choose all the members of ray 
family of such ; and to be ready to break off other themes, 
and begin the divine subject among them. And, T. To 
look forward to that day when the wicked shall fall off 
sound about us, as the falling leaves from a frostbitten 
"'tree, nud \ve shall rise to dwell awnong glorious angels, and 



^BO aPME TUAVELLEB. 

perfected saints, where we shall talk of him and to hm 
for ever, and not a wretch break in to mar our dearest, 
•ur divinest theme. 



MEDITATION CVI. 

On going beyond the line. 

Plymoulh Sounds March 14, lT6f , 

Commanded by mir Sovereign with cheerfulness we 
leave our native land, and jHtrsue our course through- ra- 
ging and extensive oceans, to unknown climes abroad^ 
though we may meet with enemies, be overtaken with 
diseases, and must pant beneath a scorching sun. Why 
then, O ray soul ! afraid at thy heavenly Sovereign's 
command, to pass the line of time into the wide ocean of 
eternity, and unknown worlds above, seeing thou hast 
Jiis divine promise for thy protection in the hour of deaths 
and the sure hope of a non-such friend before thee, who 
is Lord of all the unknown regions of glory? 

The saint should even rejoice in the prospect of deaths 
which turns out to his immense, his everlasting gain ; for 
here he may have little or nothing, there is his inheritance ; 
here he may be an exile, there he is at home ; here a 
stranger, there among his friends ; here often mourning 
without the sun, but there etei-nally with God. 

• One, -from the large quantity of stores and provisions 
of all kinds which is brought aboard, might well conclude 
we were not designed for channel-service, but for some 
distant part of the world: O! then, seeing I have such 
a long voyage before rae, and must live* in worlds to come, 
how is my soul provided ? what have I in hand, what 
b^ve I in hope ? have I the promise, and Christ in the 
promise in hand ? and its full accomplishment in the full 
enjoyment Qf him in hope ? Were I only to coast on the 
shores of time, die like the beasts, and be no more, to be 
unprovided would not be a crime. But to launch into 
eternity without the provision proper for an immortal 
soul, is more desperate madness than for ships to sail to 
the farthest Indies without bread, wood and water. 

It afj^ctji ^^ 3 little tp go abroad, and not know i^ 



eysr I shall return 1o my native land, or mt a, friend I 
have in life ; but faith's enlarged view shall dissipate the 
gloom, for the sun shines as brightly on the other side of 
the line as this ; the starfe twinkle alike richly in all quaf- 
t-ers ; and heaven, surrounding the whole globe, is alike 
near to all places ; yea, God being every where present, 
he that lives in him cannot be divided from him, or die 
out of him, by distance from his country and his friends, 
but at the hour of dissolution shall go to be for ever with 
the Lord, where he shall be allowed the nearest approach- 
es, and most intimate communion with him that dwell? 
in light inaccessible and full of glory. 



JVIEBITATION CVII. 

On a popish procession to prevent the return of an earths 
giiake, 

Madeira, April 2, 1T61. 

Of all curses, those that are spiritual are most terrible^ 
and none more dismal than to be given up to strong d6» 
iusions.to believe a lie. Do these men think that the Dei- 
ty is like children, pleased with pomp, and novelty, and 
show ? When the power of religion decayed in the soul» 
it came more and more into bodily exercises, which profit 
little, and into external forms and farces. Will a few 
boys creeping on their hands and feet, before you through 
the streets, make the heart-searching God believe you are 
truly humbled ? do ye substitute the walking bare-footed 
along a stony cause-way, in the room of walking witli 
God by faith? imagine ye to avert divine wrath by gen- 
tly whipping your naked bodies ? or are such touches of 
the fiesh equal to a real sorrow for, and turning from sin ? 
Think ye Ggd has ceased to be a spirit, and no more de- 
mands to be worshipped in spirit and in truth, but, Kke 
the idols of old, with the fooleries of men ? Are the gra- 
ces of the Holy Ghost converted into bodily gestures ? 
and can your being veiled in a mournful manner deceive 
him who seeth through the thick darkness? Think ye, 
^e Cfiirrying « piece of wood, in the form of a cross. 



2^ THE TRATELLER. 

through your city, will awe the earthquake into eternal 
silence ? or will God look down propitious on the image 
of your saint and patroness which ye have made in breach 
of his own express command ? Our blessings must come 
through his hands that suffered on the cross, and for his 
jsake, but we must expect nothing from the cross itself. 
Of old the doctrine of the cross was foolishness to Jews 
and heathen Greeks ; but now the cross, while its divine 
doctrine is dropped, is very folly among nominal Chris- 
tians. 

Now, if God, who has another time to judge, should 
In his general forbearance and common mercy, not send 
a second shock, how will they be persuaded of the preva- 
lency of their piiocession, and thus be hardened in their 
superstition and delusion I O with what fervour, for it 
is the interest of Christ ; with what constancy, for souls 
are precious ; with what tenderness, for they are our fel- 
low-creatures and brethren, should all the reformed 
churches pray for the destruction of the man of sin, and 
the fall of Bubylon, that nations who have nothing but 
shadows for substance, rites for religion, and the inventions 
of men for the doctrines of truth, may walk in the light, 
and enjoy the liberty of the glorious gospel ! 

But shall 1 forget tlie special favour of Heaven to me? 
for it was not by chance that I was born in a Protestant 
land, but by the good will of him who hath determined 
the times before appointed, and the bounds of the habita- 
tion of every individual under the sun. 



MEBITATION CVIH. 

Sailing in the torrid zone. 

Apriin.nioi, 

What extremes are found on this little ball that is hung 
upon nothing! Here nations tremble among mountains 
of ice, and deluges of snow ; there kingdoms pant under 
a scorching sun, and breathe in a sultry air ; while others 
(though perhaps not better pleased with their situation 
than the former) have but a moderate degree of eithec- 
It f^es the same way with the rational world as it does 



tvith the terrestrial globe ; here some Jive in cliilling penu- 
ry, there others wanton in enfeebling luxury and wealthy 
while some have the golden mean, the desirable sufficien- 
cy, and yet, like the inhabitants of the temperate zone, 
are scarce eontent with their situation, or thankful for 
the mercies of their lot. The inhabitants of one coun- 
try think that another country abounds with the plenty 
of the universe ; but he that tries all, finds a deficiency 
in each. But whatever difference there be among men 
with respect to the bounds of their habitation, surely the 
whole world dwell either under Sinai's tremendous thun- 
4lerings, or Zion's peaceful voice. The situation of the 
one is terrible, but of the other triumphant. And what 
is awfully surprizing, is, that though the thunders are 
both loud and long, yet, being asleep in sin, they hear 
them not, and so bless their state, till the terrors of death 
rouse every organ to be with the deepest anguish, atten- 
tive to the everlasting thunderings of an avenging God, 
But the still small voice, being accompanied with divine 
power, speaks into the very hearts of those^ who by be*- 
lieving on the mediator of the new covenant, are come 
Id the heavenly Mount Zion. 

A warm sun, and a bright day, are big wOrds among 
the northern nations, who have often a cloudy sky, a 
short noon, and a long cold night. So affluence and plen- 
ty are words of a big meaning to them whom poverty 
follows, and irom whom pity flies; but it is better to 
struggle Avith losses and crosses, if so the graces of the 
soul be kept alive, than to lie on a bed of down, fall asleep 
in carnal security, and never more awake. It is danger- 
ous to swim in hot seas, where sharks, or along shores 
where alligators devour ; and doubly so to wallow in 
wealth and ease, where lusts andJ^atan destroy. 

The European beauty would not exchange her fair face 
.with a swarthy complexion, for all the treasures of the 
south ; and should the Christian who is all-glorious with- 
^in, choose a condition that may cast a blemish on his 
better part, like Jeshurun, who, when he waxed fat^ 
kicked ; and in his greatness forgot him that made him 
great? More venomous creatures crawl in those coun^ 
tries which never felt a cold day, than in such as annual- 
ly feel a pinching winter. So, generally speaking, more 
.corruptions (pride, lust, carnal security, wrath, ^c) 
R 2 



2SA THE TRAVELLED. 

abound among such as are finely cloathed, and fare sump- 
tuously every day, than among those that sit down to 
one meal, and know but little how to provide the next. 

But again, are the distant beams (for even under the 
meridian line the sun is millions of miles removed from 
us) of a burning mountain, or a measurable world of fire, 
so excessively hot and scorching ? then what must the 
%vrath of the Almighty be ? Though all the sky were full 
of scorching suns, they could convey no idea of thy ter- 
lible indignation. Who, then, can describe thy terrors, 
or the fierceness of thy wrath ? immensity can only mea- 
sure its extent, and eternity its duration ; well then may 
it awe a finite worm into silence. — • 



MEDITATION CIX. 

Under the direct meridian, 

Lat. 0. W, Lon. 9, Apnl 16, 1761. 

S^TRETCHiKG towards the south, we are at last arrived 
at the true meridian, where our eyes need not travel 
throiigh spacious skies, or journey tov\ ards the chambers 
of the s^juth. to find the glorious Lord of day ; seeing 
from the summit of the skies he shoots down his perpen- 
dicular beams, and gives the brightest day. This appear- 
ance would look strange in the northern isles, and there- 
fore invites to some meditation. Then, as one that is al- 
ways sailing to the south, though sometimes he may be 
oveilaken with cahns, or contrary Hinds, yet sooner, or 
later will reach the line ; so the Christian that steers his 
course heavenward, though he may have many heavy ob- 
structions, froQi without, and from within, as the contrary 
winds of strong temptation, the bursting squalls of inbred 
corruption, and the no less dangerous calms of spiritual 
sloth and carnal security, shall, in spite of all, reach the 
meridian of glory. Indeed, the poor sailor may perish 
before he can come to his port ; but the believer, having 
liis anchor within the vail, though earth and hell, and 
remaining sin, the worst of all the three, often threaten 
his ruin, shall safely arrive at the haven which he desires 
tofge;^, andtheu ^^ill he remember the perils ef ,iirs pas- 



THE i'RAT£LLE^. 23^ 

j-tige, and dangers of the sea, only in gmteful songs to his 
divine Deliverer. 

Never was I apparently so near the sun as now, and 
yet never did the sun seem so high above me : So it is 
with the Christian ; the more he knows of God, and the 
nearer he is permitted to approach to his throne, God is 
tlie higher in his esteem, and the more glorious in his ado- 
ring eye, while he is the lower in his ovv^n sight, yea, 
ready to sink into nothing while admitted to unclouded 
views of the divine majesty. And this, and this only, is 
44ie desirable situation below, when the soul, in deep hu- 
mility, adores the high and lofty One who inhabits eter- 
nity, wholly emptied of himself, and fully replenished 
with God. 

Again, only under the meridian can I set ray face every 
way, and look up and see the sun, because he shines 
straight above my head, and all in the same latitude share 
the same amazing noon ; so in the land of glory shall the 
Sun of righteousneps shine in all the brightness of his un- 
created beauty, into every soul, and be no more a rising, 
.a setting, or a clouded sun, but eternally dwell in the full 
view of all his numerous adorers. The Deity, in his 
most ample revelations, in his most satisfying manifesta- 
tions, shall fill all the higher house ; yea, every entran- 
ced adorer sees God in one another, for seraphims and 
cherubims flame in his brightness ; angels and archangels 
sing and shout in his day, and all the saints shine in his 
similitude. Nothing is there (for the fearful and final se- 
paration has taken place, O tremendous day !) but God 
and goodness, but innocence and peace, but sanctity and 
joy, but harmony and song, transport and delight, love 
and illumination. 

Here our bright day has an enfeebling influence, and 
our high sun-bearaci almost insufferably hot ; but there (O ! 
shall such an one as I be ever there ?) 1 shall bask in his 
noon-day beams, and share the effuigence of his incon- 
ceivable divinitj^, yet not dissolve into inactivity and 
death, but thereby be invigorated for the whole task of 
an eternal adorer! 

Is this globe of light and ball of fire, so amazingly 
majestic, that heathen nations have given him divine 
honour as a God? then how incomprehensibly great, 
Ti«r\v ineflTaWy gloriotis must Jehovaii be, whose bare 



£S6 THE TaAVEJ.LEE. 

word spake such a beauty into being ! and is my etei;- 
nai noon to be by the brightness of his presence, the 
emanations of his love, and the glory of his power ? 
yea, is even Jehovah himself to be ray Jight and day, 
my life and bliss, my portion and song? what then, 
though some few dark nights intervene, since this day . 
is on the wing, when my views shall all be bright, 
because in his light I shall see light clearly ? O these 
transporting, these transforming views, that shall for 
ever entertain every enquiring, enlarged faculty of 
soul; Henceforth let my soul dwell by faith in endleb;s 
aoon, till over all my shades this endless noon prevail. 



mEDITATION ex. 

tinder the meridiari, the sun and moon high, 

N, Latitude 5^, S5\ Apnl 19, 1T61, 

Whe:n the Ftarry heavens engaged my attention in 
the northern climes, many of their bright inhabitants, 
and the moon herself, seemed low to me ; but here, 
under the meridian, not only the sun but the moon in 
her proper hour pojssesses the summit of the sky, and 
the bright beauties which seemed to he in some de* 
pressed station, partake in the same exaltation. Now, 
is not this a lively picture of that happy and triumphant 
state that the militant church skall be exalted to at 
last ? Christ is ascended up on high, not for himself 
( for as God he is over all blessed for ever ) but as our 
representative, and in our name, that where he is, there 
we may be also ; and as his Father has a seat on his 
throne for his beloved Son, so has the Son promised 
that such as overcome shall sit with him in his throne; 
yea, every saint shall partake of his Redeemers glory, 
for if we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him ; 
^nd if we confess him, before an abandoned world, he 
will also confess us before assembled men and angels. 

Then, although the moon suffer an eclipse, it is not 
to be thought that a planet is destroyed, for she shall 
yet reflect many a bright beam, and, to some parts of 
'ho worM> vxm In an elevated orbit; so it is witfe saisis 



THE TRAVELLEK. 237 

in particular, and the church in general, they may be 
both low and little in the accouut of carnal men, but 
they are not the les^ noble in themselves, not of small- 
er account with God. The certainty of this exalted 
state may well support us under the deepest abasements, 
for because he lives, we shall live also, and every mem- 
ber shall rejoice with his glorified Head. What though 
the saints now suffer under diversified trials, like the in- 
habitants of the frozen north, who have only a peep of 
day through the whole winter, but are harassed with 
one burst of tempests, one covering of snow, and one 
field of ice ; since they may look a little forward, and 
see themselves placed in these happy I'egions where their 
fUvine Sun sheds eternal noon, and makes them shine 
forth as stars in the kingdom of their Father 1 



MEDITATION CXI. 

A squall of rain, lighiiimg, and thunder. 

April !^0, 1761. 

The other day, when the meridian sun brightened 
a cloudless sky \^^th amazing effulgence, and all round 
about was light and beauty, I did not dream that sucii 
a tremendous night would so soon ensue. The winds 
blowing with amazing vigor, the disquieted ocean roar- 
ing beneath, the glaring lightnings flashing over the 
whole heaven, the broken clouds pouring out floods 
of water, and the rolling thunders echoing the majesty 
of the Eternal, through the conscious void, make up 
the awful scene. So trouble and disappointment will 
often break in on the most beautiful prospect of sublu- 
nary felicity, and raise a hurricane amidst the most 
perfect calm. Hence, we should learn, amidst the pos- 
session or expectation of any created bliss, or temporal 
good, to hold all we have or hope for, at the kind hand 
of the Sovereign Disposer of all things, of whose condlict 
none of his saints could ever yet complain. 

Again, if the least contest among the elements, pro- 
duce such dreadful effects, how terrible must the state 
rJf shineTs be, who wage ej/ernal war with heaven, and 



2^ XHE XRATELt:^. 

sliall have ihj^ arrows of the Almighty within them, 
the poison whereof drinketh up their soul I 

No place or latitude can at times boast of so delight- 
ful a day, but at other times no place undergoes a* more 
dismal night ; so let churches in general, and saints in 
particular,^ stand in awe to. sin, and beware of presum- 
ing on their privileges, saying, The temple of the Lord, 
the temple of the Lord are these ; and, We have Abra- 
ham to our father; for of all people none are more 
:geverely punished than those that he has made approach 
nearest to him ; " You only have I known of all the 
families of the earth, therefore will I punish you for 
all your sir^s." Capernaum, that was lift up to hea- 
ven, is threatened to be thrui^t down to hell, for abusing 
these singular blessings; and Jerusalem, the beloved 
city, whither resorted the chosen tribes, where stood the 
holy temple, and where God was served, §ind manifest- 
ed his glorious presence, yet for her sins, oftener than 
once had it done to her as it had not been done under tfee 
whole heaven. 

Woe, then, a triple woe, to the poor apostafte, %vho 
has once tasted of the good word of God, and has beea 
made partaker of the Holy Ghost, and tasted of the 
heavenly gift, and the powers of the world to come, 
when he falls from God, and falls into his hands as an 
offended, angry, and avenging judge I Oh I with what 
care should he that thinks he stands, look to his ways, 
that he may never fall I 

This heavy rain reminds me of the deluge ; the fire 
end thunder, of Sodom's overthrow. The first shews 
ine how the old world perished, the last how this world 
shall be destroyed* The bellowing wind proclaims ship- 
wreck to the sailor, and the sudden squall bids me be al- 
ways ready for the worst event, and the whole scene 
summed up together, preacher to me the gopdnets, the 
jiower, and providence of God* 



MEDITATION CXtt 

Emulaiwiu 
S; Latitude 16^. W'. Longitude ^6^, 3Tay 10, 1761. 

It was a saying of Moses, the man of God, when one 
told him that two men prophesied in the camp, *' Enviest 
thou for my sake ? would to God all the Lord's people 
were prophets.'' The holy man took it not amiss that 
others had of the same spirit he had, to perform the same 
functions, and shine in the same character. What a shame 
is it, then, that the saints and sons of God should envy 
one another for the excellencies of their gifts and graces i 
If God he greatly glorified by any, should I be greatly 
displeasecl that it is not by me ? shall I contend with God 
about his distribution of blessings, and begrudge his lib" 
erality to any more than myself? Does one minister dark- 
en another in preaching, or one saint excel another ift 
prayer ? who of Christ's servants can be darkened if their 
Master shine ? or who of his saints will not bless him for 
his goodness to others as well as to themselves ? 

It is as base to be peevish because of the excellencies 
of others, as to be proud of our own. Our great, our uni- 
versal struggle should be to set up God on high, and our 
great joy should be to see him set on high, whoever be 
the happy instrument. Ah, how base to bow the ear to 
vulgar applause, and listen to, or lust after, empty fame I 
In the natural body, is the one hand affronted that thef 
other hand wears the signet or the ring ? and among Da- 
vid's worthies, were the thirty chagrined that they did not 
attain to the first three ? then why should saints and the 
servants of God, envy for one another's sake 1 Surely, it 
is rare to have singular gifts and graces, and not know 
of it ; and it is almost impossible to know it, and not be 
puffed up in a greater or less degree. O what a degree 
of humility should tbe spiritual worthy pray for, lest at 
any time he be puffed up ! Should the servant of Jesus 
-take it ill that hearers flock more after others than him* 
self, seeing it is, at least should be, still Christ they are 
running after ? can it vex him, if he speak in sincerity, 
UdPause some arc martyrs of more eloquence than he ? 



^0 THE O/RAVELLIiR. 

O for that noble disposition of minding the things of 
others as \te\\ as mine own, and blessing God with cheer- 
fulness for the singular gifts of others whereby he is glo- 
rified, which should be ray whole aim, as well as for mine 
own I Let others excel in getting thee up on high, though 
thou shouldst always refuse ray service. Let the spiritu- 
al temple be built, though I should never lay one stone in 
the edifice. Give liberally, very liberally^ to all thy 
saints and servants, and mine eye shall never be evil be- 
cause thine is good. It is enough to be a cup in thy house, 
though others be bowls and fiaggons. Surely the loyal 
subject will give his joyful acclamation at the coronation 
of his king, though not permitted to place the crown on 
his head, or perform any of the ceremonies. Is there 
any dissonance among the stars (nor should there be 
among the saints) because one star exeelleth another in 
glory ? 

Such and such gifts, or such and such degrees in these 
gifts, which I emulate for, might hurt me. Fire may be 
kept in a brasen vessel, which would burn a wooden one. 
Boiling water might crack a glass bottle, but not a stone 
bowl : so these qualifications which I think would make 
me all vigour and spirit, might hurt my spirit in more 
spiritual things. Few, like Moses, could carry a com- 
mand so vastly great, with a vastly greater meekness ; 
or have the humility to cover his face when it shines, and 
reflect the glory God-ward. Though I could pray like 
an apostle, and speak like an angel, yet, if the least pride i 
spring from the perfonnance, it were better to speak t 
like a babbler, and pray like a babe in grace. I should 
press after grace continually, and grace in the highest de- 
gree, without which the noblest gifts will be but sound 
and smoke, without heat; while the weakest gifts, with 
true grace, may edify both myself and others. I should 
rest satisfied in the all-wise disposal of Providence, who 
giveth to all as hepleaseth, since, though there be diver- 
sities of gifts, it is the same Spirit who knows best how td 
divide, and to whom ; and if God be exalted, though I 
should exert myself, and would choose to excel, yetl^ 
should not take it amiss, that in that excellent work eve- ; 
ry one excels me, and out-does my utmost. Finally, 
though my capacity may be weak, and my faculties shal- 
low^, yet hereby may ail my V ftiits be made up, if I be 



rich ill fMth, to draw out of his fulness for my exigence ; 
111 humility and gratitude, to disclaim any thing in my- 
sjBlf, and give him all the praise ; and in love to God, to 
pour out my whole soul on him, while he kindly dwells 
ill my heart, and replenishes every power with his pres- 
ence. 



MEDITATION CXni. 

Birth-Day, 

S. Latitude 26^, May 30, 1761. 

When I dropped some thoughts last birth-day, I wag' 
itticertain that I should see another, but now may be quite 
certain that this day I shall never see again ; therefore I 
am another year nearer to the unseen world, were my 
years never so many. Surely my years, like figures in 
arithmetic, rise in their value as their numbers increase, 
and the last redoubles the whole. Why ? so much expe- 
rience of the vanity of all things, so many providences 
ever working for me, such fatherly chastisements, such 
rich displays of grace, such divine admonitions, so many 
tender mercies, and such sweet, sweet outlettings of love, 
leaves a heavy charge at my door, if I walk not answera- 
bly to them all. 

Though I am still alive, and O that I could live to him 
I'll whom I live, yet several families both of my friends 
and acquaintance have wept and wrung their hands foi: 
their expiring friends, in the short period of a year ; and 
O how soon must I feel the mortal dart fixed in my heart, 
and every sickening pulse proclaim the approach of my 
i*iist moments I 

Then only thu* shall I i)e before-hand with my wasting 
ye^ars, and get my heart fence*! against the terrors of 
death, by having my life hid with Christ in God, and ray 
conversation in heaven : so should I antedate my future 
happiness, begin eternity in time, and, like Enoch, walk- 
ing with God, would get my soiii tilled with such an ar- 
dent Ilame of heavenly love, that I v^^ould have a desire 
to be dissolved, and to be witli him. What a happy state 
were this; fwdejith would tU'op his sting, the grave wovtl'd 



eease to gloom, and awful eternity excite a soog of trli- 
umph ! Thus, while unprepared mortals tremble at the 
thoughts of death, I, longing for perfect freedom from, 
sin, and eternal communion with God, in a kind of holy 
impatience, would ciy out, Why is his chariot so long m 
^ming ? why tarry the Avheels of his chariot ? 



MEDITATION CXIY. 

Though we walk on earth, our conversaiion should be 'in 
heaven* 

S. Laiilude 10^, JuIt/ T, 1761. 

The way-faring man has little on the fatiguing roa4 
but his weary feet ; his heart being set on his family, his 
friends, his home ; his affections on his native country, 
and his desires terminating on his journey's end* Then^ 
am not I a traveller heaven-ward, a pilgrim, and a so* 
journer on earth ? What then have I hsre, or whom 
have I here, to captivate my affections, and hinder theni 
from being set on high ? If I have any treasure, it must 
be in heaven, for nothing on earth is worthy of the name^ 
seeing all terrene things take wings, and fly away ; or if 
they remain, it is but to be consumed in the general con- 
iiagration. Nothing sure of mine should dwell in this 
world, but the body of my mortality. My inner vnaii 
should be an inhabitant of the better country : and it is' 
highly reasonable it should be so, for my hope, ray joyv 
my all are ther^ 1. The Father of my spirit is there, 
the beloved of ray soul, and the husband of mine espou- 
sals ; the sanctifier of mine affedtions, and the kindl^r of 
my love, is there. 2. All my friends in a spiritual respect 
are tliere, even the whole family of my heavenly Father, 
angels, arch-angels, cherubims, seraphims, and the spirits 
of just men made perfect. Who would not then dwell ic 
luch an assembly, and love such a divine society? 3. My 
house and home are tliere, and it must be an estranged 
heart indeed that never thinks on his ovrn house, and ne- 
ver longs for home. 4. Mine inheritance is there, and a 
goodly portion it is, and pleasant lines tJiey are, that are 
^3l1en to me. The heh-s f»f thrs world (m\v farm frora fa- 



VLitx to SOU, mid death determines the leasie § but there 
every one inherits for himself, and that for eternity. F. 
The objects of my faith, the subjects of my song, and the 
dariing excellencies of my love, are all there ; and what 
Boul would not dwell among such divine delights, walk 
m such a paradise, and breathe ia the very air of sancti*> 
ty and bliss ? 

O what a loss do I sustain by my ignorance of the di- 
vine life, and by the carnality of my mind ! But is such 
an happiness attainable below? Yes; the Christian even 
here, may have his conversation in heaven, or (as the 
word signifies) his civil life. Then, 1. He that lives a ci- 
vil life any where, must buy and sell, and do business with 
the men of his place ; so may I in heaven even buy the 
merchandise of bliss without money, and without price ; 
and carry on the noblest business with the highest One 
in the most interesting concerns of my soul. 2. Where 
one lives he necessarily walks and talks, eats and drinks, 
sleeps and wakes ; so may ray soul by faith walk over the 
fields of light, and talk with the Author of my bliss, the 
fountain of my joy, and the centre of my love : there I 
may eat of the hidden manna, pluck off the drop-ripe ap« 
pies of the tiee of life, and drink of those fivers of pleas- 
ures that eternally overflow in his presence; yea, and 
fall asleep amidst the numerous beatitudes above, and 
awake with God in the morning. 

Now, as one travelling home, only attends to his 
journey, and provides his viaticum^ his food for the 
way; (nor would his friend greatly oblige him that 
would load him with golden dust, or silver ore ; ) so a 
few of the necessaries of life are sufficient for my sup- 
port, till I arrive at that better life that shall need np 
such assistance. 

Then, seeing my house, ray home, my friends, my 
bliss, my joy, mine inheritance, ray crown, my life, my 
light, ray glory, ray Saviour, my God, are all on high, 
and nothing here but a waste and howling wilderness^ 
through which I travel with danger and dismay ; tJiither 
let my longings tend, my wishes wing, and there let 
my desires center, my affections be fixed, and my whole 
soul dwell, that at death nothing may remain but to quit 
this house of clay, and at once be a free and isiport^i 
citizen of the Jerusalem above. 



1 



^k THE TilAVELLEK. 

MEDITATION CXT. 

Great love in God^ thai we may love God. 

N.. LaiUiuh 0°, 18', July 19, 1T61. 
O HOW ardently would I love thee, who art amiable* 
laess itself I Fain would I have my heart filled with 
divine breathings after thee, who art all beauty and de- 
sires I but,- alas I I know not what it is to love thee, 
which is the highest attainment of the first born sons 
of light, and the beft exercise of the brightest seraphs. 
I have heard a soul-warraing fame of thy likeness in 
thy saints, and thy similitude being put on the spirits 
of thy people ; and where it is most perfect, it gives 
them such a celestial tincture, such an heav^enly hue, 
that they are like angels dwelling among men, or- saints 
whose conversation is already in heaven. But woe's 
me ! my ignorance, my ignorance ! I know not thee, 
and how can I know thy likeness I alas ! my chains are 
heavy and my mngs are weak; my affections sensual, 
and my spiritual desires languid. Yet I have some 
blinks amidst my blasts, some sun-shine and serenity 
in my winter : and though I cannot love thee as I would, 
yet I am filled with longing after some of this divine flame 
of love, that shall turn ail the out-goings of my soul 
God-ward, and turn the world, in all its beguiling and 
hewitching vanities, eternally out of doors. O that I 
jknew where^ how, and in vjhat I might love thee I May 
I love thee any where, and every where ! at home 
or abroad, on sea or land, among friends or foes, among 
men or devils, among saints or sinners, in life or death, 
in time or in eternity ! But again, how or after what 
manner may I love thee? May I delight myself in thee, 
meditate on thee, walk before thee, imitate thy divine 
perfections, talk of thy glory, mention thy righteous- 
ness, recount thy mercies, and sing aloud of thy love I 
may I praise thee, pray to tkee, plead with thee, depend 
upon thee, and roll myself wholly over on thee ! But 
again, in what may I love thee ? May I love thee in 
thy son and in thyself, in the unity of Godhead, and 
in the trinity of persons, in thy perfections and attri- 
butes, in the largeness of thy love, and in the briglit* 



nt^s of thy glory ! May I love thee in thy a-igels, in 
thy saints, and in all thy other creatures ! May I love 
thee in thy power and in thy providence, in thy conn- 
-sel and in thy conduct, in thy chastisements and in thy 
comforts, in thy favours and in thy frowns, when thou 
woundest or makest vvhole, when thou givest and when 
thou takest away ; in a v*'ord, in all thy secret decrees, 
and in all thy open dispensations 1 May I love thee 
in thy gospel, and in thine ordinances, in thy law and 
in thy testimonies, in thy scriptures and in thy sacra* 
ments, in thy promises and in their performance, in thy 
saints, in thy servants, and even in mine own soul ( O 
to see thee, O to know thee there! ) and in thy grace, 
and in thy glory ! Again, may I love thee at ail times 
and all seasons, in youth or in old age, in my family or 
in the field, in company or alone, lying down or rising 
up, going out or coming in, in health or sickness, in wealth 
or in poverty, in a prison or in a palace, in reproach or 
applause, in the body or among the spirits of just men 
made perfect ! 

O astonishing condescension ! that one under so many 
deformities and deficiencies, may love continually so great 
a Being in all his glorious excellencies 1 AVill a king ac- 
cept of the love of a subject, especially if loaded wjth 
infamy and reproach, reduced to poverty, and languish* 
ing on a .sick bed ? and yet, though poor, reproached, 
and infirm, God despises not my love, but welcome* 
«ven its few ascending sparks. O I then what a field of 
love, is this, God looking out at so many windows^ 
shining in so many excellencies, and still calling, Son, 
give me thy heart ; soul, give me thy love ! O what 
must that love be that prevails in the higher house, in 
the highest heavens ! Oh I were my soul dipt in the ce» 
testial Jordan, I should be cleansed from the leprosy of 
earthly-mindedness, and carnal affections, which always 
renders the persons infected, unclean, and incapable of 
holding communion with the Most High. 

O dearest Lord ! thou hast blown up a spark in ray 
breast, that lives in spite of all the waters of corruption i 
cherish and increase this fire, till in the day of eternity 
it break forth into a spotless flame. And then (O could 
I antedate that day ! ) I shall even be refreshed with the 
IJerfection of my love, when I find it so spotleSR, vigt- 
s2 



246 THE TRAVELLED?.. 

rous, and divines, that not only.I, but God, its glorious 
fountain, and eternal obj«(A, shall be pleased with my 
love : when its quality shall be suitable to that state ot 
consummate perfection, its quantity such as replenishes 
the most enlarged powers of glorified souls, and its dura- 
tion through all evermore. 

Now, since thou art seen in all tilings, and canst not 
but be loved wherever thou art seen, how is it that I 
am not wholly taken up with thy love, and lost in tran- 
sport and delight, in the diWne survey of thine excel- 
lencies? Can a poor soul like mine not find sufficient 
matter for meditation, where a whole heaven of per- 
fected adorers find enough of th^ir most enlarged capaci*- 
ties through eternity, and to spare ? 

Now, here is the wonder, that God is not only lovely 
in himself, and in all things whereby he reveals himself^ 
but also permits, yea, commands me to love him, making 
my indispensable duty my daily privilege, and my highest 
privilege my daily duty. 

All subjects may and ought to reverence and love their 
sovereigas, but some countries not only forbid, but make 
it penal, for any of the fair sex, though nobly born-, to be 
espoused to their prince, and so of course forbid tliem to 
love him in the highest degree. But, O the condescen- 
sion of the high and lofty One, the chiefesrt among ten 
thousand, that I may love hhn, and not be reproved, and 
kiss him, and not be despised I As he is the greatest, so is 
he the most generous of lovers, not only ever returning 
love for love, but for a spark returning a flame, and for 
a faint wish, some full expressions of captivating love;' 
and as he is a noble, a none-such lover, so he does all 
things answerable to this divine character. His decrees 
are love : ** I have loved thee with an everlasting love ;'' 
his counsels are love, " I counsel thee to buy of me gold ;" 
his cords are love, Avherewith he draws ; his rod is love, 
with which he corrects, for " whom he loves he chastens ;''' 
his providences are pregnant with love ; his promises are ' 
pure love ; his name is love ; his officers are love, for to 
teach and instruct, to plead and intercede, to lead, rule, 
and defend, to help and heal, to counsel and comfort, are 
certainly offices of love ; his relations are love, a kinsman 
Jledeemer, a friend, a brother, a father, an husband, are 
Ifjndly nances, and fu41 of affection, especially in him; 



THE 'fiKATEl.i'E^ 'S^f 

lits baaquet is a feast of love ; kis banner 13 a banner of 
love ; his chariot is paved with love ; and he himself 13 
altogether lovely. May I, then, love such an amiable 
one with all the vigour of divine affection, and not be 
deemed audacious ! May I claim the darling of heaven 
as mine, and maintain^, with all the warmth of immortal 
iovc, " This is ray Beloved, and this is my friend," and 
not be accounted an offender amongst all the enamoured 
adorers of the higher house ! 

But, O where shall I find, or whence fetch, a love 
worthy to be bestoAvetl on this lover, who hath not his 
like on earth, or in heaven? O could I love thee like 
thy saints in the day of their espousals, glow like angels 
in their celestial ardors, and burn like seraphs in their 
deathless flames ! O strange ! may a worm of yesterday's 
production love the miglity One of eternity? may a dai- 
ly sinner presume to be a daily lover of him whose name 
k holy? may dust and ashes not only talk, but carry otf 
a communication, an interchange of love, with the Fa- 
ther of spirits? Yes; for thou not only allowest me to 
love thee, but to know that I am loved of thee in an infi- 
aitely higher manner tlian lean love thee. Thine is the 
ocean, mine a drop from thy fulne,ss ; thine is the sun, 
mine a spark kindled in thy' beams ; thine is the eternal 
emanation of sovereign good-will, min^ the reflection of 
lieaven-born gratitude, for I love thee, [because thou first 
l©vedst me; and as thou wast first, so art thou highest in 
thy love. It was much for thy saints, yea was it not 
enough for them, and more than enough for me, to be lo- 
ved like thine angels, archangels, thy seraphs, and all thy 
bright armies of light? yet thou hast loved them with a 
love above that ; for in that matchless prayer (John xvii.) 
pleading for the {perfection of his spiritual seed, througli 
union to him, the divine Redeemer says, '* That the world 
may know," (and let all the world know it, repeats a ran- 
somed worm) " that thou hast loveu them, as thou hast 
loved luel" 

What a wonderful love is this! but Vv'hat a worthless 
iover am 1 1 O happy, thrice happy heirs of God, and 
joint-heirs with Christ ! whom he invites to a seat with 
fcim on his throne ! Surely, under a sense of so mucl,j love, 
and yet power to love so little, 1 should die, did I not 
wait for my remoTal to (he region rif \'f*vo, wl:tirre iriy 



9A^ -THE TRAVELLER. 

-powers of mind, enlarged and strengthened for the iuatiS' 
polls of eternity, shall be wholly exercised in love. O 
that divine freedom I wait for, that glorious liberty of ini' 
mortal lovers that I pant after, where mine eye shall l3e 
all intuition of his glories, and mine ear all attention to 
the account of his excellencies ! Surely, my song and 
soul shall be full of love to him ! Yea, nothing but love, 
centering on him, and singing of him, with the highest 
degree of ardor, shall employ my every power for ever. 
And here, dear Lord, while I v^alk on the dark mountains, 
let it be regarded as a kind of love to think (since I can- 
not love thee as I should and would) how perfectly I 
shall love thee in those blissful regions, in those days of 
future glory, and in thy heavenly presence ; with what 
tresh ardour, and unknown delight, I shall adore the God 
of love, who is not only lovely altogether, but teems out 
full floods of love on the emmets of creation, and wel- 
comes the trifling returns of love from the atoms of his 
footstool. 



MEDITATION CXVI. 
Providence to be approved of. 

Portsmouih Harbour, Od, 31, 1 TGI, 

NoTHiJf G is harder to attain to, than an entire resign 
nation to the disposal of Providence ; and in this very 
thing I condemn myself. But, O how absurd to quarrel 
with Heaven about one individual,, if pleased with his 
conduct towards the totality of beings ! Bid I ever wish 
a reason why God sends his Gabriel on this or that mes- 
sage, and not some other of the bright armies of bliss? 
Durst I ever find fault v/ith the immense distance of tlie 
stars or the huge magnitude of the sun ? Did it ever give 
me uneasiness, though the Ottoman empire was a scene 
of revolutions, or a field of blood, or though nations 
nearer home underwent changes and war ? But if any 
trying providences come home, I am up, if not in arras, 
yet in astonishment at heaven, and wonder why God 
deals so and so ! Now, God^s right over, and propriety in 
■me, is as fail and sovereign as over any other of his crea- 



1;ure3 ; aad so siiould I be as well pleased vvlih wliat he 
carves out for me, as I am with what he does for others. 
I never complained of the age of the world in which I 
was bom (nay, but have blessed God for it ;) and why 
should I, of the time of life that this or that event con- 
cerning me takes place ? I pant after some things vvhicii 
in themselves are good, but God postpones them, as I 
Ihink ; but the truth is, tiie proper time of God's giving, 
and my receiving, is not come ; and yet in the greatness 
of my folly, I grow impatient, like the husbandman, that 
fbr an early harvest, reaps corn not fully ripe. 

Now, niy will shall be swallowed up in thine, since I 
am more thy property than mine own. And as I would 
not direct Omniscience how to dispose of his armies of 
light, so will I never tell him how to deal with the inha- 
bitants of his earth, though I make one »f the number. 
Yet, O Most High 1 as thou wilt be inquired of by the 
seed of Jacob for these free mercies which thou wilt be- 
stow, and even importuned (as once by wrestling Jacob) 
for blessings, and the performance of tby promises ; so I 
implore thy divine interpi:>sition in my behalf, if it be thy 
holy will, and that thou wouldst bring me again to the 
place of the soles of thy feet, that I may hear blessings 
instead of blasphemy, and see thee in thy gloiy in thine 
own courts. O let mine absent moments from Zion be 
numbered up, and finished ; ray wanderings counted, and 
completed ; my company changed, and my song be to the 
God of my mercy in the courts of his holiness ; and mak)p 
me yet see some of the days of the Son of man , in com- 
memorating the sufferings and death of my divine Re- 
deemer; in thy tender mercy, hear, help, and give an 
answer of peace. 

But, Loivl, if thou shalt (and for thy glory I would 
fiain live) be more glorified in my resignation to thy holy 
will, and my remaining in the state I am in, than in my 
possessing all those things I long after, I roll myself «v(fr 
&n thee, and to thy disposal say, Amea. 



2f*0 %^E TRAVELLER. 

MEDITATION CXVH. 

Brighi views and bold language above* 

Under sail for Lisbon., Nov, ^9, 1T61» 

Often at the description of divine things, by a mas* 
terly pen, or a truly poetical genius, I have been aston- 
ished, and admired the enlarged views of those, and their 
sublime thoughts, who, like myself, but dwelt in clay. 
Then said I, What must the songs of the new Jerusalem 
be, when a stanza or two, wrote by a poor mortal, la- 
bouring with corruption, and bewailing his ignorance of 
sacred things, yields so much pleasure and delight ! 

I shall, then, for a moment, suppose myself arrived at 
the regions of glory, and welcomed by the King eternal 
to the upper world : But how am I at once transported 
with the harmony of bliss, while I am indulged to look 
into the library of heaven, and read all the essays of 
eternity itself! First, then, a celestial canto spreads 
foefare me, w^hose majestic style astonishes, whose soft 
and flowing numbers ravish, which was sung by the mor- 
ning-stars together, by all the sons of God, when the 
earth was created. And next, an inhnitable song, com- 
posed by the first bards of light, and sung by part of the 
celestial choir, when the so» of God condescended to be 
born. Then a triumphant anthem, sung and echoed 
round the whole court of heaven by all the hosts of light, 
when the. Son of God ascended conqueror over all his 
foes, and sat down on high at the right hand of God. 
But the most amazing and inimitable piece, for abund- 
ance of subject, for excellency of matter, for beauty of 
expression, for ardency of love, for intimacy of commu- 
nion, and for refined and exalted thought, is the divine 
epithalamium, which, at the marriage supperof the Lamb, 
when the whole family of heaven is assembled to divide 
no more, shall be sung by every guest at the feast of love, 
at the table of bliss. Besides these, here are some revi- 
ving hymns, composed by angels rejoicing over repenting 
«nners. What exalted joy sparkles in that angelic com- 
position over a penitent Manasses, and every returning; 
prodigal ! Gabriel, in this matGhIes.s ode^singsof the et^rf 



tSE TRAVELLER. ^iji 

iiiiy of God, in such strains as would astonish all the 
bards of time ; — in that, Raphael dwells on the trinity of 
persons ; while Michael celebrates the majesty and power 
of the Eternal, with such energy of thought as would 
darken the brightest wits the world ever saw. In ano- 
ther, a mighty seraph sings inimitably of sacred love, and 
nil heaven echoes amen to his divine encomium. Yea, 
MOW every saint is a poet, every believer a bard ; and O 
how sweet are the songs of the higher temple ! how soft 
the harmony of eternal day I What hallelujahs rise from 
the angels of God I what hosannas from the church of 
the first born ! AVhat concord and symphony are in the 
songs above ! how dark, compared to these, were the 
brightest descriptions of God I ever heard below 1 how 
dull my former ardours to those Vvhich now I feel ! Ho\y 
f^int and languid my love to what now kindles in my 
breast I Here is the refined expression, here the noble 
idea, here the exalted turn of thought, here the true su- 
blime of divine poetry, and here the enlarged, the naked 
view of divine things, of heavenly glories, to embolden 
and enliven every song. Here we talk of God at his 
throne, and while we commend him, we behold the beau- 
ties of his face ; while we exalt him, we enjoy him, and 
s.D can never cease extolling him. 

But, alas ! my dark views of future things convince 
me that I am still in the body. Yet great things I may 
expect in that state of perfection. And though now I 
connot serve God, nor sing to God, as I would, and as I 
should, yet there is a day on the wing when I shall join 
the anthem of love, and, being loosed from all my pres- 
ent fetters, shall sing through eternity with the bards of 
paradise, " To hirn that loved us, that died for us, that 
rose again, and reigns on high, be honor and might, pow- 
^' and dominion, blessing and glory, for ever and ever^ 



252 I'HE TKAVELLE^ 

3IEraTATION CXTin. 

Declining Yeccrs. 
River Tagus^ at Lisbon, December ^6, lT6»t. 

Hitherto I have looked upoa myself as young, aiui 
coming to my best ; but henceforth I shall consider ray- 
self as in my declining years. I am certain how long I 
have lived in the world, but quite uncertain how soon I 
must leave the world ; and therefore should be preparing 
for my final departure, and daily be rip^aing for the re- 
gions of bliss. 

Nothing would be a more forbidding prospect, than ih& 
verdure of spring to cloathe the fields in harvest ; but 
nothing more pleasant, than to see maturity keep pac& | 
with the approach of autumn. So should I grow daily 
riper for the great harvest, as the time of ingathering 
draws daily nearer and nearer. Leaves are pleasant in 
the infant orchard, but fruits are expected from the full 
g^rown trees: — So in the young converts, the breathings 
of grace are sweet; but aged saints are expected to 
abound in fruits of righteousness. My love, like Ezeki- 
ePs holy waters, the longer it runs, should rise the highee; 
and spread the wider, till lost in its divine ocean above. 
The longer we live with our friends, we grow better ac- 
quainted, more intimate with, and fonder of them ; so the ' 
longer I enjoy communion with God, the more ardently 
should 1 breathe after uninterrupted communion with him.- 
As my years decline, and my outward man wastes away, 
so should ray graces bloom, aa^d my inner man grow sti"ong ; 
and when it is almost dark night with my life, it should 
be bright noon with my expectations. O bow pleasant 
is it, that the longer I live in the world, I rise the nighei; 
to heaven ! If I make progress in my spiritual pilgrim- 
age, I will daily lose sight of the world and all its vani- 
ties, which is the wilderness I travel from, and will daily 
see more of the tops of the heavenly moimtains, of the 
tdwers of the New Jerusalem, toward which I travel. A 
state of grace is a glorious condition at all times ; but a 
growth in grace is a sweet proof and heavenly €onse- 
QU^nc'^ of fciirgin a state of grace. My affeGtions ^hoi^S 



ije raare axid more loosed from the creature, while the 

fins of my earthly tabernacle are loosening eveiy day. 
should at all times have my conversatiou in heaven, but 
especially when walking with one foot in the grave. 

Now, though the period of three-score years seems fap 
distant, yet, as there is not an hour of the day of life but 
the sun goes down at, so I should just walk as under a 
setting sun, seeing upon thousands at my age the shadows 
of an feverlasting evening have fallen, who had as many 
pretensions to longevity as I. My walking with God 
will not shorten my span, but brighten my noon, and 
make my sun set with all the sweetness of a cloudless eve- 
ning. Enoch walktMl with God three hundred years, 
and, in a manner, begun heaven upon earth so that he 
»rew immortal, and ascended deathless to the very throne. 
O how pleasant is it to feed on the fruits of Paradise, 
while entering into the land of promise, and as it were, 
to be naturalized in the world of spirits, ere I go to dwell 
for ever there. A grey head, and a carnal worldly heart, 
iS a w ounding sight ; but a young man, and an aged love, 
one in his prime, and all hrs graces flourishing, is comely 
to behold. Henceforth, be gone bewitching vanities, 
and all the enchantments of the Avorld 1 the evening of 
my life is not to be triiied away with you. Death attends 
me, the grave awaits me, and eternity is at hand ; there- 
fore, may my purified affections, river-like, enlarge as 
they approach tlie ocean ; snd on the wings of faith and 
love, may I often fly to the hills of spices, where thy glo- 
ries shed their beams. May I w^alk in the liberty of spi- 
Eitual meditation in the land of bligs, that so death, when 
it comes, may have no more to do than lay my slnmbering. 
afches in the silent grave, and let my soul remain a free 
inhabitant in her blessed abode. 



MEDITATION CXIX, 

The expected cltmigc. 

Jan, 10, 1T62, LicMn Rivlr. 
Whvteter horrors may be?et the carnal and secure, 
Avhen their gloomy moments come on apace, yet no pros-^ 
pect affords me equal pleasure to that of my last change ; 



2^4 SHE TBAVELIiES. 

and I have exceeding great cause to rejoice, when I ccno» 
pare what I now am and suffer^ with what I shall Jlien en* 
goy and be. Now my joys a^e mostly future, and in ex- 
pectation, for I walk by faith, and live on hope ; but then 
they shall be present, and in possession, for I shall dwell 
in light, and feed on fruition. Now I am daily struggling 
with death and sin, but then I shall eternally triumph 
over both. Now I toil along a tiresome road, but then I 
shall walk above these skies in tlie very heavens. Now 
Biine eyes rove from vanity to vanity ; but then they 
shall see, yea, fix on the King in his glory, on the King 
of kings in his divinest glory. Now I dwell among fire- 
brands, and surrounding sinners daily give me pain ; but 
then I shall dwell among the armies of redeeming love, 
see angels and archangels increase the throng, cherubims 
and seraphims join the song, and not one sinner among 
all the hosts of light. Now I bewail myself often as a 
frail inhabitant of feeble clay ; but then I shall find my- 
self possessed of all the vigour of immortality, of all the 
briskness of eternal life. Now I am often puzzled about 
the providences of my lot ; but then I shall approve, and 
see a divine beauty shining through the whole conduct 
of providence, in the light of glory.. Now, in the no- 
blest subjects my ignorance often leaves me greatly in the 
dbrk ; but then shall I know, and that even as I am 
known. Novv I have foes without and foes within, the 
sin of my nature, and the idols of my heart, enemies from 
earth and^ hell to grapple with ; but then, triumphing 
over every foe, I shall j?ing the conquest of the Captain 
cf my salvation, the victories of the divine Conqueror, 
and never cease from this interesting, this unexhausted 
theme. Now sometimes, from the presious ordinances 
and sacred courts of God 1 am debarred for a time ; but 
then shall I be a pillar in the temple of God, and go no 
more out, but always worship at his throne. Now the 
cruel hand of death comes among my friends and famil- 
iars, and leaves me like a sparrow on the house-top alone, 
or a pelican in the wilderness mourning ; but then not 
one of all the numerous inhabitants shall so nmch as say, 
*' I am sick," because they are an assembly of sinless 
ones. My ^un often conceal?: himself, so that I go mour« 
ning without him ; but then in the light of his counte-? 
nance, in the brightnes.^ of his glory^ snail I walk on for 



THE XaAVELLER ^6 

^Fcr. IN'ow I am crawling along the roa^ of life in com- 
pany with fellow-worms, who dvvell in cottages of clay, 
and are crushed before the moth ; but then, dignified with 
his divine similitude, I shall dwell with the Ancient of 
days, and enjoy the dearest and most intimate commun- 
ion with Jehovah and the LamJj for ever. Now my time 
is wasting away, and I am not far, yea, for aught I know, 
am very near my latter end : but then an endless eterni- 
ty €hall be mine, and my bliss be as durable as desirable, 
as permanent as pleasant. O ! then, who would not pre^ 
pare and wait for a change that is so pregnant with glo- 
VY and. bliss ? 



MEDITATION CXX. 

Argummts for faith in God, 

Jan, 2£, 1T62. Utider sail for EngloAid* 

The noblest way to glorify God, is to be strong in 
fhe faith, like Abraham, the friend of God : and as this 
confers most honour on the divine Promiser, so it convey* 
the greatest quietness to the soul. But, as I am more 
fearful than many of the faithful, and cannot attain to 
that confidence in God that the most part of believer* 
have, let me strengthen my faith by the scriptures of 
truth, which can nev^r be broken. 

First, then, these sacred records hold out a chain of the 
nearest and dearest relations between God and the happy 
soul that has an interest in him. He is a Judge, the 
Judge of all the earth ; and can I dread wrong judg- 
ments at his hand ? He is the orphan's stay, the strengtk 
of the poor, and the stranger's shield ; what then may 
not the orphan, the poor, and the stranger expect from 
iiim? 

Again, he is a Father ; and what may not I expect 
from such a Father, who in the tenderest manner has said 
again and agai», " Son, all that I have is thine ;" — a Fa- 
ther, who has heaven and earth at his disposal, and the 
hearts of all men in his hand — a Father, whose divine 
affection infinitely exceeds that of the best of the name 
to his most enjjaging son, or of the most loving raotipT 



£i^ TffE TRAVELLER. 

to her most amiable babe ; — a Father, whose wisdom 
knows mfinitely well both what and when to give ; whose 
eyes and ears are continually open to their calamities and 
complaints; w^iose love waits to bestow, and is, as it 
wiere, impatient to be gracious: whose promise is no 
dead word, but living, and pregnant with good ; — a Fa- 
ther, who has given the most amazing instance of love, 
in that he kept not back liis Son, but delivered him up for 
lis all ; and if he gives me his salvation, gives me the gra- 
ces of his Spirit, promises me his heaven and his glory, in 
a word, gives rae himself, what will he with-hold, what^ 
\yill he deny ? 

Surely, I have hitherto had too meaifi thoughts of the 
goodness of God, and looked on the promises as only fair 
words, when they are very faithfulness and truth ; yet I 
may assure myself with as much certainty as the sun is in 
the heavens, that all the promises of God shall have their 
full, theiir perfect, their complete accomplishment toward 
me, and at the time that is most proper in the eye of In- 
■finite Wisdom. Henceforth no doubt shall disturb my 
5)reast ; I will patiently wait on the Lord, who not only 
promises great things, but performs whatever he promi- 
ses ; knowing assuredly that though now I too much im- 
itate murmuring Israel in the wilderness, yet, like them,, 
"when I arrive at the land of promise, the Canaan above, 
I shall profess before the whole assembly of bliss, that 
there hath not failed any good thing whereof the Lord, 
liad spoken or given promise — all is come to pass. 



MEDITATION CXXL 

I7ie traveller at home, 

Sepiembev 7^ 1TT6, 

These many years have I dwelt in ray native country, i 
and in mine own house. Through the perils of war, the j 
dangers of the sea, extremity of cold in one part, and \ 
scorching heat in another, have my life and health been ' 
preserved, to my own surprise, while numbeps saw their 
native land no more. But, as a traveller, what have I 
seen ? Just sw and vanity in every land, grief and pat^ 



in every breast, the fruits of the fall, and the havoc of 
•the curse in all nations. 

I dwell in mine own house, and bless the bounty of Pro^ 
Tidence, which, from floating on a restless ocean, has giv- 
en me a settled habitation. But I look forward, and set 
that I have a long, an interesting, an awful journey be* 
^ore me, not from one kingdom to another, but from one 
world to another. Hence (not forgetful of all his 
Xnercies that prev^ited me in all my wanderings) to lay 
lip my treasure in the better country, to prepare for my 
approaching change, to improve for my future society, 
and to ripen for heaven and glory, shall employ the re-?' 
jnainder of my life, tha.t I may finish ray course with joy. 



^^ 



WITH TH.S"1 



WORLD UNSEEN, 



I 



CONVJERBE 



WITH THF 



WORLD UNSEEN, 



Fviurt GloTj^, 

Oct. 1T6S, 

VV HEN, some years ago, I left my native coun- 
tiy for another land, my thoughts went before me ; and 
when I foresaw, that, in the course of providence I should 
CFOss the glowing Equinoctial, still my thoughts got the 
start of me, and were, as it were, acquainted in the place 
ere my arrival there. vSince, then, I am on my journey 
towards eternity, and the world unseen, why is not my 
meditation there? Shall the howling desart, through 
which I haste, engross my attention, when paradise is be-» 
fore me ? 

Tell me, ye inhabitants of bliss, how you employ your- 
selves, ye who have bid everlasting farewell to all ereated 
things ? " Oh I man, thy question moves our pity, and 
proves that thou dwellest in thick darkness, Couldst 
thou thrust thy head through these heavens, and get one 
glance of the glory we dwell in, of the divine person we 
adore, thou wouldst never move the question again, but 
ardently long to come up hither, and account the con- 
quest of a kingdom like the childish acquisition of a fea- 
ther or a fly ; thou wowldst turn the world out of thy 
mind, and trample on its noblest things with a disdain 
becoming an expectant of glory.'' 

My divine Redeemer, I-see. then, that in thy presence 



/i62 COKVERSE WITfe 

there is fullness of joy, and that at thy right hand arij 
pleasures evermore. Too long tlie things of time have 
gained on my esteem ; too long have I been enamoured 
with creature-charms, and mistaken the chief good ; 
kenceforth will I dwell in that w^orld, where in a little I ^ 
diall dwell for ever. Hie more I meditate on divine i 
things, the more I love them, and find the greater delight ^ 
in my meditations ; but the less my thoughts are on themj 
iilas I the less do I esteem them. Ah ! hitherto how have 
I refused and fled the purest felicity, and followed after 
vanity and pain I 



II. — On want of Divine Love, 

Bleed, my heart ! and be pained, my inmost soull at 
ihe irreverence that too often troubles me in my devotion, 
and defiles my best duties. O ye «ons of light ! I see 
you stand at the eternal throne, and worship, with pro- 
Ibundest awe and reverence, the Almighty. Yes, ye an- 
gelic throng ! though your countenance sparkles with 
glory, yet, before the Ancient of Days^ ye hide your fa- 
ces with your wings, drop youi' greatness in his effulgent 
HVIajesty, and lose your beauty in his diviner beams. 
There the mighty Gabriel is a celestial worm ; and all the 
geraphic ■principalities are insects round the throne 1 

What, then, must I be before the High and Lofty One 
who a.lone inhabits eternity ? I who dwell in clay, am 
ci-ushed before the moth, clouded with ignorance, defiled 
hy sin, dogged by death, pleased with phantoms, and char- 
•aned with gilded nothings I The language I write in, can- 
jiot afford words to describe my vileness ; metaphors fall 
short, and fruitful fancy toils in vain : Then let me thinkj 
and debase myself even unto hell. 

O tremendous gulph : where am I now ! Ye fallen 
liosts ! ye infernal throng ! you I resemble in my irreve-= 
rence towards God. Oh, horrid ! shall I be like these 
grinning spectres, these eldest sons of sin and de&th ? 
Out of ihe belly of hell will I cry unto thee : yet thou hast 
jny heart, thou hast my love, and I will worship at thy 
throne prostrate on the humble ground. 

O ye happy assembly on the heavenly mount, the 
mount of God ! qqiU^I I thijaklike you, could I knowjiki^ 



THE WORLD ITiySSETi, Sib5 

you, could my whole soul be wrapt up in aJoraiion and 
divine attention to the sweet employ, what delight would 
diffuse through all my powers of mind in my happiest mo- 
ments ! I 
What cause have I to fear lest thy burning thunderbolts 
break on my irreverent head, and dash the daring wretch 
out of thy gracious presence into perdition and woe ? 
But be thou exalted in thy condescension to my ^tate, in 
thy pity to my frame, and let thy patience and forbear* 
ance swell my grateful anthem, while I long for that per- 
feet state, wherein, though blessed with the nearest ap- 
proaches, I shall always be filled with the profoundest re- 
spect, and divinest awe, and not one improper thought 
of God shall pass my breast. 



til. — We grope in tTie dark while here below. 

Ye heirs of endless rest I ye know no more the anx-^ 
lous thought, the troubled breast ; your cares are pas^t, 
and your concerns have come to an happy end, while 
this day I wait the doubtful issue of some grand affair?; 
which very much concern ray passing life. Not a cloud 
!s in your sky, not a doubt is in your raiud, while I dwell 
hi the stormy twilight, and fear a tempestuous night. O 
ye shining ones I is it possible, that ever, like me, ye 
dwelt in the vale of Achor? were ye not born in the 
better country ye now inhabit ? Were ever these compo- 
sed countenances disfigured with sorrow, or did the briny 
tear ere trickle from these sparkling eyes? 

"Yes, mistaken man! we all, and every one of us, 
came out of great tribulation ; not an inhabitant of the 
Canaan above, but longer or shorter trav^elled through 
the wilderness below. We lost our sorrows with our 
mortal frame, and at once found immortality anil joy ; and 
now our happiness is vast as thought, unbounded as our 
wish, and stable as the hills of bliss '/' 

Well, well, ye sons of joy! I boast my happiness n% 
well as you. If your felicity be secured in the possession, 
mine is secured in the promise. He that delivers out of 
Egypt, also brings safe over Jordan. Once, like me, ye 
wept, ye mourned, ye stood amaaed, and knew aotwha^ 



^64 CONVERSE WITH 

to do ; eo, in a little, I, like you, shall shout and sing, . 
and share eternal peace, and praise the conduct of my 
glorious Guide* Comforted with these prospects, I will 
encounter all the changes of a transient state, and fix 
mine eye on the felicity to Come. By faith I will drink 
at the river that flows from the throne of God ; and thu$ 
become immortal in m^ highest hopes, and most endear- 
ing prospects, I will bid defiance to all the darts of woe 
that can teeiii on me in time. What can changes do to 
me, since my last and most terrible change shall fix my 
felicity, and render my best state unchangeable ? 



IV, -^ All things tcerkfor good to the saints. 

Mat I endure as seeing him who is invisible, and hav- 
ing mine eye much on the world to come I Time now 
passes, and passing time has perplexing scenes ; but, O 
ye citizens of the New Jerusalem, your mountain stands 
fast, and shall never be moved, and your beloved is in 
your arms ; and an everlasting hallelujah dwells upon 
your tongue. Here I dwell in the dark, and am much in 
doubt, nor know what conclusion to draw from the con» 
duct of Providence concerning my present state. I de- 
precate and pray, and often am at a loss to know my dif- 
ty. Is there none in your great assembly that could be 
content that some of your crosses had not taken place 
in time? and that the divine conduct had been other- ' 
wise ? 

*' No, complaining mortal I no. Be it known to thee, 
and all the mourning throng, that we adore and acquiesce, 
in all that ever befel us below. Yea, the very providen- 
ces which crossed us most, and made us almost doubt the 
love, and disbelieve the promise of God, rlow, when un- 
folded in the light of glory, fill our hearts with joy, and 
our mouths with songs, while we adore the infinite love 
and amazing wisdom of our God, that made all things 
work together for our eternal good I" 

What I Is there not one in all your numerous assembly 
that has had dark and unintelttgibie providences in his 
\ci? _ 

' ">> hat J theft- prefiunptitou.nnquirel' ? It composes uS; 



that Crod, ovir own God, sent them; and though we should 
iiever be able to find out the cause, or be indulged with 
the mystery unfolded, we are all w^ell pleased to have the 
strongest impressions of Jehovah's absolute sovereignty, 
who gives no account of any of his matters to men or 
angels, thus preserved on our enlarged souls, to all eter- 
nity." 

Shall I not, then, from this time, O Lord, claim thee 
as my Father, and the guide of my life ? Thousands and 
ten thousands, by thy divine conduct, are safely arrived 
at ftiss, and not a complaint on their tongue, not a mur- 
mur in'their mind at one step in all the rugged way. 



v.— ^ soul converted^ joy amofig the angeh, 

Dec, 6, 1765. 

What meaneth the noise of this great shout in the 
camp of heaven? What! ye holy angels, there cannot 
be Avar in your borders, or deatli in your immortal fami- 
ly ? " No, but one of our blessed number is just now ar- 
rived from ministering to the saints on earth, and brings 
the joyful tidings, that a sinner is converted, an heir of 
gloiy born, and therefore joy sparkles in every angelic 
countenance, and triumphs in our rapturous hallelujahs- 
Let this day be marked in the records of heaven, in the 
annals of eternity ; and may to-morrow be as this day, 
and much more abundant." 

Hail, happy day, when the conversion of my friend, 
that shares my daily prayei^, shall cause joy among the 
angels of God ; yea, when God the Saviour shall see of 
the travail of his soul, and be satisfied I Methinks I see 
the rosy dawn of' divine power, when the soul that once 
resisted Jesus flies into his ai-ras. Then the pleasing dreams 
flyaway, and the unseen world presents itself to view^ 
Then the peace of God, and peace of conscience, are pri- 
2ed above all the things of fame. Wherefore do I doubt, 
•since thy name is salvation, thy word enlivening, thjr 
merits infinite, thy call at every hour, and all thy bowels 
iove ? 

A snin the hearc^nlv arches rinir. *' ^^other esBtirf 



266 CONVERSE WITH 

won from hell, another sinner converted hmn the error 
of his way ; and who can tell but it is my absent friend I 
Let all the ransomed throng exalt the riches of free and 
sovereign grace, while all my powers are swallowed up 
of astonishment and love i 



YI,-— Earth not our home. 

Sept. 16, 1T6|L. 

Why am I so fond of the land wherein I am a stran- 
ger, of the place of my exile ? The decease of all ray 
ancestors proves this ; not one of them is this day alive, 
and 1 fall the next by course. O to ^ei this world un- 
der my feet, that it may not lie a dead weight on me in 
my last moments ! . This is the land of graven images, 
and every image dares compute with the things of the 
unseen world ; for relations claim to have as much of niy 
afifection as Christ ; time, to be as oft in my thoughts as 
eternity ; and the earth to engross my concern as much 
as heaven. 

Now the men of the world think I am at home ; but 
the expectant of glory will not own his liorae beneath 
the sun ; for it is but ,a eoldrife home where sin and 
satan dare appear, God is seldom seen, and the tenant is 
often weeping ; but, O blegsed inhabitants ! who dwell 
where the Lord God and the Lamb are the temple, the 
Lord God and the Lamb are the Light, and the joy of 
the whole land. You not only dwell in heaven, bat hea- 
ven dwells in you, vrhile earth and hdl straggle hard for 
i-oom in my heart, and, alas I too, too oft prevail. Com- 
passionate Redeemer I when shall thy stranger arrive at ; 
these realms of day, and join the sinless throng that wor- 
ship at thy throne, and never,^ never, sin ? 



VII. — We should live above the world. 

O DIVINE Lover ! O divine love I how wonderful 
are thy works ! Six or eight thousand years ago, there 
\^s not one adorer to be found befere thy throne ; but 



TKE WORLD BIV'SEEIV. £i6T 

I50W how are the courts of the great King thronged ! and 
thousands and ten thousand daily worship at the throne I 
and by and by not only the angels of light, but the heirs 
of love, shall all ?it down in the kingdom of their Father. 
Then shall I get full views of thee, O thou darling of thy 
Father, thou desire of 'all nations, and light of the v^orld 
above 1 Men and angels v/ere created to be happy in 
thee, and got their beings that thou mightest be glorified, 
and they might be blessed ; but men and angels fell, of 
the human race all, that some miglit be redeemed ; of the 
angelic some, that none should be recovered. O wisdom 
infinite ! O sovereign love ! Then, not only being and 
bliss have I from thee in creation, but in the 'vonderful 
work of redemption. And yet I am a stranger to my di- 
vine Redeemer! O when shall I come and stand before thy 
throne ? As fast as the chariot of time can drive, I am 
posting to the unseen world, but how shall I be ashamed 
that I had not one meditation before me ; and chiefly, O 
thou glory of thy Father's house, that I had not more 
acquaintance with thee? To sit at thy feet, will bless4[ny 
-eternity ; and to talk of thy love, will heighten my joy; 
then, let me just dwell before thee in time, and with my 
spirit withirirae seek thee early. Should not love bemy 
daily theme, which shall be the table-talk at the marriage- 
supper of the Lamb through eternity ? Do I believe 
that this world and 1 must part, and that at odds? how 
then will the expectant of glory like to get the lie from 
lying vanity ? It is best here to be first in the quarrel, 
to fall out with the world, so as not to leave it one affec- 
tion, but have them set on things above. 



YIJl.— Joy awaiis the sainh. 

1765. 

Can I take it ill. Fountain of joy I that I sorrow now 
a little, since in a little, like those who walk in vvhite 
robes, with crowns on their heads, and palms in their 
hands, I shall be in an ecstacy of joy for ever ? AVlien I 
am broiight from the house of mourning, to make my <^o- 
Jemn entrance into the King's palace, it will be with 
gladness and rejoicing. All my powers of mind will b? 



268 cos TERSE IfflTM 

entranced Bt my admission into thy beatific presence 1 
All the heavenly graces will sing in concert at receiving 
the crown of perfection I All the angels of light will 
welcome me with joy to their great Master's house ! and 
the whole church of the first-born will shout ray happy 
acc*»ssion to the purchased throne i 

Yet, for all this, my welcome w^ould be but dry, and 
their song but dull, didst not thou, O Jehovah I rejoice 
over me ! didst thou not rest in thy love, and joy over 
ine with SINGING. How can hosts or angels look sad, 
if their Maker joy ? How can the heavens be silent, if 
Jehovah sing ? All thine attributes, all thy perfections 
shall kannonize in my salvation. Mercy and truth, 
righteousness and peace, shflll meet and kiss, and shout 
and sing. O w^hat astonishing transports and entrancing 
melody shall fill the highest heavens I w^here, O amazing ! 
where the subject of our songs, and object of our love, 
$ha]l himself be the sweetest singer, because he does eve- 
ry thing according to the grandeur of a God. 



IX, — TIw joy of saints unseen. 

How do the men of the world mistake religion, and 
think the Christian dull and melancholy, dumpish, and 
morose I But, O Fountain of my joy I thou knowest 
what divine delight I find in my retired moments I only 
lament' that I am not more alone, or, when alone, that I 
am not more with thee. The request of the spouse shall 
be mine — Come, my beloved, let me get up early from 
an enchanting world, Let me go forth from the vanities of 
time, let me lodge in the humble village of solitude, let 
me walk in the flowing field of the promise, and there 
will! give thee my loves. In these sweet moments heav- 
en smiles in my face, and ray soul exults in God. I grasp 
^t my expected bliss, and taste the joys on high. 



X. — Heaven the best inheritance, 

A DiTiDSD sea, and a flaming Sinai, falling manna, 
agad a friendly cloud, were wonder» *f old ; but, O \yh^i 



THE WORLD UNSEKK, i^^9 

I wonder this, that the God of glory should come down 
to give wings to worms of the earth to bear them to the 
skies I Amazing I to see insects soar above the stars, 
and arrive at the realms of day I AVhen, O when shall 1 
also join the shining multitude that sits on Zion's hill? — 
Eut there is not one crawling insect in all the heavenly 
country. So, though I be a worm below, while I rise to 
the throne, 1 shall rise into an angel in the assimilating 
beam. 

Truly, O King eternal ! my faith sees that the land of 
promise is a pleasant land, and that thy presence makes 
heaven a desirable habitation. Let the men of the earth 
contend about thy footstool ; I will not be satisfied witli 
any thing beneath thy throne. What is a province, what 
is a kingdom, what is an empire, what a continent, what 
the whole world to an inheritance in the highest heaven I 
To thy honour, O thou King of kings ! all thy glorified 
subjects are both altogether and always kings. In thy 
favor they are exalted, and none shall ever drive them 
from their state. A portion, or division, of the Arabi- 
an desarts, would have been no compliment to the tribes 
who were travelling toward the land of promise I nor 
shall I much esteem a plot of this enchanting world, who 
desire, to be only charmed with my heavenly possession. 
O pleasant country I O land of delight ! where the win- 
ter is past, and eternal summer dwells ! Sin dares not pass 
the frontiers of ImmanuePs land ; sorrow and sicknesi 
tlare not invade the seats of bliss. Sheill I hereafter inha- 
bit the land where sin shall no more infest it ? I who 
have been in hot wars with it all my lifs ! Shall, then, a 
land that is within the sea>mark of vvTath, engage my at- 
tention, or gain my esteem, uhen my na^ti^e ccuntiy is 
so very near ? I have but a little way to go till I pass over 
Jordan, and enter into mine eternal possec^sion^ not of 
Canaan, not of paradise, not of heaven, but of .Tehovah 
and the Lamb, m here I shall enjoy all thy comrminicable 
fnlnpsrs, ages without end. 



Enemies Overikrown, 

TnoxTGH Israel was, without doubt, safe under tlift^ 
croiiduct of the man of God, while recoiling seas leil their 
l)ed a passage for the ransomed tribes, and the angel and 
the cloud interposed between the heirs of promise, and 
the hardened pursuers ; yet when their enemies are no 
more, but their lifeless bodies, which caused their terror ,. 
in the land of the living, are lying on the shore, how do 
they sing and boast in their divine Deliverer ! Even so, 
though under thy conduct, O Captain of salvation I I 
nm safe in spite of earth and hell at my heels, in spite of 
sin and corruption rising in my heart; yet how desirable 
is it to enter into the land of rest ! how pleasant to join 
the triumphant throng, who have put off their armour, 
and on their crowns ; dropped the spear, and taken up 
the palm I In a word how sweet, how ineffably sweet to 
cease from sin ! 

Thou knowest I desire to depend on promised grace, 
Sind in the strength thereof to cut ray way through all my 
enemies ; but I also desire to pant for promised glory, 
when not an enemy shall be found in all the heavenly 
world. Hail happy day, when death, spiritual death, 
that chaaked ray graces, and slew my comforts, and hell, 
even sin and satan, shall be cast into the lake of fire. To 
believe in thee is my duty while below, but to behold thee 
will be my bliss abo^-e. Faith and hope refresh and sup= 
poi't me in the militant state, but vi-iion and fmition shall 
transport and ravish me for ever. Indeed my defence 
is the same, ^mi the sense of my security differs. Though 
grace shall rise into glory, yet often my faith of this is 
shaken, and a heavy tumult ensues in my soul ; but Avhen 
crowned with glory, and seated before thy throne, I shall 
gin no more, I shall fear no more, but enjoy divine ecsta- 
sies, sacred tranquillily, and all the pleasures of the land* 
of love". 



THE WORLD UNSEEN. STl 

XII. — The exercise of the blessed. 

O YE Iieavenly hosts, how are you this night, employ- 
ed ? — '' In behoklirig him, and blessing him, in seeing 
him, and singing to him. We look on hhn, and love him ; 
we look to him and are enlightened ; we see him, and are 
like him ; no fatigue deadens our devotions, no weakness 
inclines us to repose; we are immortal, and our theme 
is eternal ; so we cannot be wearied, and it cannot be ex- 
hausted P' 

What high and beautiful flights are in your songs, then, 
O ye redeemed from among men ! O the ravishing ac* 
cents of the hosannahs al>ove, and the raptures of the 
liallelujah on high ! O the sweetness of the song of Mo- 
ses and the Lamb, and the melody of the mingling notes 
of men and angels I O the sublime subject of the anthem, 
and the eternity of the concert I " True, O man ! for 
our day knows ho night, our song no pause, our vision 
no vail, our sun no cloud, our light no shadow, our 
strength no decay, our felicity no period, our love no al- 
lay, and our eternity no end 1" 

Did ye see, O ye exalted. ones I would ye not pity us 
the sons of men, to find us so anxious and eager in the 
pursuit of lying vanities, as if eternity were come down 
to time, or the things of time could suit eternity ? Ye 
are honouring Christ to the highest, for he is in your soul, 
and in your song ; in your love ; and in your eye. O 
blessed exercise I O extrellency of bliss I The Most High, 
in the highest heaven, in the brightest display of his glo^ 
ry, in the sweetest manifestations of his love, is the sub° 
jectof 5'our song, the object of your adorations, and the 
plenitude of your possession I My rest would be your un- 
easiness ; for I must fall asleep in order to bear the toils 
of a perishing world, but ye rest not day nor night, and 
yet are sufficient for the ecstasies of an eternal heaven '. 
These are the years of the right hand of the Most High; 
,the days of the exalted Son of man, one of which I long 
to see. O the strength that flows from that " exceeding 
and eternal weight of glory !'' the more weight the more 
might ! 

Oh! at an immense distance I only look toward that 
land of bliss,, but Jiave I anV tking to do wi'th your joys .; 



C7£ CONVERSE y^mis. 

methinks I claim them all. That Ocd is my God by the 
same relatiori to whom I shall shortly come ; that immor*- 
tality I shall shortly put on ; I shall shortly join in that 
soDj^, possess that glory, plunge into that bliss, be satisfi- 
ed with that likeness, see that well-beloved of my soul, 
burn in that Jove, share of that fulness, and enter into 
ihat joy I Therefore, in this low condition, it shall be con- 
solation to me to meditate on the sublime employment of 
the higher house, till I am transported thither. 



XIII. — Ccinplaints of spiritual languor. 

O LORD these many years I have pretended to love thee. 
I have indeed tasted that thou art gracious ; but, alas ! 
how can I say that I love thee, when my heart is not with 
thee ? Can I love thee and not long for thee ? ^Surely it 
is the nature of love to be impatient and restless till pos- 
sessed of the object beloved, yet how^ little do I long for 
rhee ! Hoav can I dwell with so much contentment at 
such a distance from thee I I am not only astonished, 
but terrified at myself. O lukewarm heart.! O lifeless 
J over that I am I is tliis my kindness to my friend ? Did 
1 esteem the smiles of thy face, and the light of thy coun- 
tenance as I should, I could not dwell Avith so much plea- 
sure in the land of darkness. Did I regard the honor of 
thy name as I ought, the daily sight of thine enemies 
\vouId be my daily grief, and to find myself so often act- 
ing the enemy against my dearest Lord, and beet friend, 
w^ould be my continual lamentation and burden. Is it 
possible I can be an heir of God, an expectant of glory, 
and not pant after communion w'nh God ? Ah ! in what 
delusive dream have I hitherto been held I Is the u^hoie 
creation able to balance the loss of one moment in heav- 
en ? '^hal! I dwell so long at Jerusalem, and not long to 
enter into tlie palace to see the lung's face I O thou >* 
chiefest among ten thousand I strike off my fetters, and 
car-tivatc my love. Divide thy heavens, and let mine 
eye of faiili look au, and ray soul will follovv mine eye. 

'V^hy sliould I. when invited to a crown of heavenly 
eloiy,'like Saul, hide myself among the .stuff of worldly 
^^are'^ ^ 'Wh^i a struggle have i with fftubborn «^ens?, afld 



THE WORLD ITSSEEX. 2TS 

preseat things, a carnal mind, and a weak faith, with cc^kl 
desires, and languid love I O to be enriched with that 
faith which is the substance of all that a believer can hope 
for, the evidences and earnest of all the divine excellen- 
cies of the unseen world ? Then, my faith shall work by 
love, and ray love shall go out on God, and I in very deed 
long to he for ever with the Lord ! 



XIV. — Preparailonfor heave^i. ' 

Were I to go abroad, with all my substance, and spend 
the remainder of ray days in another land, would not 
some things gain my attention? 1. I would study the 
language of the country, that I might converse with the 
inhabitants in their own dialect, 'i. I W'Ould get all the 
knowledge I could of the laws, liberties, (fcc. of those 
among whom I were to take up my fixed abode. 3. I 
would use my utmost endeavour to contract acquaintance, 
and establish a friendship with the men of tlie place. 
And, 4. If possible, w'ould get recommended to the favQr 
and protection of the lord of the land. Alas, then ! am 
I less provident for heaven than I would be for earth ? 

Ye inhabitants of the heavenly Canaan, how will yp, 
^are at rae, if I enter your assetrtbly an utter stranger to 
your songs ? My trifling discourse, and carnal converse, 
will sound and :<mell rank of hell, in the courts of hea- 
ven ! Oh ! am I to convei-se through eternity in the Ian- 
fuage of love, and yet not know a letter below ? 2. Am 
to be under the laws of thy sceptre, O King of saints ! 
and not know that God is love ! O ! now to be searching 
into the privileges of that land which 1 am to inhabit, 
not for the short term of life, but for eternity itself; 
where I shall see the King in his beauty, and share of the 
divine fulness of my exaltetl Head. 3. Would I be ac^ 
quainted with the church of the first-born, and all the 
angels of light (and, ye happy ones, I hope to join you 
soon;) then only in our employment we contract acquain- 
tance, for while we worship at the same throne, and be- 
hold the same amiable Being, faith and vision having like 
eifects, w^e are companions in love, and associates in 
work I and are assimilated to the gloripus pbject we fae~ 



1271 CONVERSE WITH 

liold. And, i. Since in the smiles of thy countenance I 
ghall find my eternal heaven, how should I esteem thy 
favour above life, and ardently breathe after communion 
v/ith thee below ! I may dwell in any country here, and 
Keither know nor be known of the king ; but so I cannot 
iv. thy land, O Iramanuel ! for unless I know and be 
known persoRtilly to the King, I will not have one known 
face in all the world of spirits I 



XY.—TIie Eternal Sabbaih. 

Ho^v is it that I, who pretend to love thee, should evejr 
be Avearied with a Sabbath-day's devotion ? If the body 
is fatigued, or the spirits exhausted, hoAV shall I stand 
under much intenser ardours, through eternity itself? 
"What say ye, ye adorers round the throne ? do ye never 
long to rest from your divine employment? *' O poor 
mortal ! liow ignorant art thou of our frame, our facul- 
ties, our felicity and strength ! The rest thou sp^akest of 
would be our torment ; an intermission of praise would 
pierce us ^vith the severest pangs of anguish. Didst thou 
gee him as we do, thou wouldst wholly melt in admiration, 
dissolve in love, and pour forth in praise, and never ceas^, 
and never tire through eternity itself." 

O Father of lights I pity my darkness, and enlighten 
me! O fountain of life I pity my deadness, and enliven 
me I AVhile I call in mine own experience to convince me, 
that the saints in glory never are fatigued or dulled in 
their divine exercises, have not I had some happy mo- 
ments, of which I did not weary? ISow when in my best 
frames, I have found it so for a short while, but corrup- 
tion and infirmity daily distressing me altered all, else I 
should have found it so for a long time. BUt in heaven 
the spiritual frame is fixed, and infirmity and corruption 
are no more ; therefore, with equal ease and vigor I will 
worship (jod througli eternity, as I would one hour on 
earth. Well may the fire of love continually burn in hea- 
ven, having fi'esh fuel added to it by the hand of God ; 
well may my soul follow hard after thee, being upiield by 
the arm of thine Omnipotence. Then to vvorship at thy 
-throne shall be both the bmmess and the bliss of my etei>; 



T^HE MOULD riVsKEIS. ^ij>-- 

aiiy. When once I have tasted what it i:^ to rest in the 
bosom of God, to drink the spiced wine of bliss, to bold 
communion in tlie holy of holies, and to worship at the 
highest throne, then all created beings joined together 
will not drive me one moment from my dear enjoyment 
and divine employ i Roll on, thou longed-for day, when 
I shall mourn no more over feeble nature, and the short- 
lived frame, a hiding Jesus and imperfect love ; but rise 
to ardors only known above, and, full of heaven, go 
wholly out on God. 



XVI. — Indifference to the world. 

It is a certain truth that countenances ai-e something 
a-kin to climates ; hence the visages of some reveal their 
countr^^ : even so my soul has but a dusky colour, an 
earthly hue, because earth engross *.s all my thoughts, my 
cares and concern. O how little converse have I witk 
the unseen world I how liKle communion with Godl 
0. One step into the future world will render this as if it 
liad never been, and ray first step may be it, since I walk 
on the frontiers of each \vorld. Because this world will 
cheat me, shall I cheat myself? It will be a costly pledge, 
to give it my soul till I yield my body to its bowels. 
Wherein shall the expectant of glory excel others, if his 
causes and cures of joy and grief are the same ? Should 
one who would fain be conversant about a world to come, 
<?o much concern himself with wind and vanity, dust and 
ashes ? Bags of white and yellow dust may bring me to 
court here, but the whole world on my back, will not 
procure me entrance into the palace of the King EternaL 
When arrived at the seats of bliss, it will not matter whe- 
ther my journey was in the fair day of prosperity and 
fame, or in the tempestuous day of aifiiction and disgrace. 
Both are forgotten in giory. But if I love ^jod, I will 
long to be with him, for 1 shall never get ray nil of love 
in a foreign land. Well, death is fast approaching, and 
the wondrous hour that divides Jordan. Both ddiv^cr 
me from the howling desart, and possess me Oi'the land of 
promise. Under such a prospect, v^eli may 1 with cheev- 
fulness give up the ghost; saying, hrfo thy h/tiul T ctmmi^' 
my spdrit. 



^6 CONVERSE ^Vn:n 

XVlI. — The disembodied saint. 



ltG5> 



Whither, dear angelg, whither do ye carry ray soul 
just disembodied ? "Commissioned from thy Father's 
throne, we come to carry thee safe into his immediate 
presence." What disjnal howling is that I hear behind 
Us ? '' It is the last yells of hell's old lion, at thy safe 
escape." — Ah! where am I now.^ what wonders rise 
around' me I what fragrance meets me from the mountains 
of myrrh, from the hills of frankincense ! I hear the voice 
f)f my beloved ; sacred guardians. Jet me leave you, and 
fly into his arras ! Ain I he w^ho lately lay tumbling and 
tossing on a death-bed, who now walk in beds of roses, 
and on banks of bliss ? Am I he who a little ago had none 
around his bed, but weeping friends, and concerned spec- 
tators, who now am surrounded with song, entranced 
v«rith harmony, and ravished with delights? Am 1, who 
lately lay struggling with the pangs, and trembling at the 
apprcfech of dissolution, now above the reach' of fear, 
and stroke of death ? 

But, O thou Majesty of heaven ! I blush at my very 
entrance into thy courts, that I have been such a stranger 
feere. Enoch, the divine Enoch, is a wonder in the 
upper world, he had so much of God with him on earth, 
he brought so much of heaven with him to heaven ; 
he came not from earth to heaven, but from one 
heaven to another. AYhat precious time and sweet me- 
ditation have I wasted on toys and trilles, and despised 
the joy of angels and the work of heaven I AYhere are 
all the things of time now, which could once dispute the 
possession of my heart with God ? AVhy did not thy per- 
fections feast my meditations ? Avhy did not thy love at- 
tract, constrain mine ? why did not the joys of heaven 
drown the fanciful joys, and dissipate the imaginary sor- 
rows of the world? why did I prostitute the temple of 
my soul to the idols of time ? why permit the world and * 
self a place iu that temple which the Godhead is to inha- 
bit for ever ? There are none before the throne but su- 
preme lovers of God, a name I dare not claim ; then, let 
me retire to the outmost confines of the land of bliss, ,as 
unworthy to be nearer. Ah! no; at thy tlifone I wiH 



_TllE WORLD UNSEEN. ^T 

cl.WeU for €'^fir, and glow in ardors, and dissolve in love» 
And the sacred spark, which sin and satan, the world 
and self, sniothered while below, shall burn a flame in- 
tense and strong thjcough everlasting day. 



Shall I channt, or shall I complain? Even my com- 
'^laints praise thee : it is thy kindness opens my mouth. 
Had I been thrown into hell, my revenge had been 
against the throne of God ; but while I find myself in 
the arms of bliss, with what language shall I condemn 
my conduct in time ! Was I content to have dwelt on the 
other side of Jordan for ever ? to put up with a fooPs 
paradise for eternity ! O I why did not my soul go out 
more after God ? why did not my love center on him 
alone? how could I treat my best, my heavenly friend, 
worse than a common traveller ! Myhouse received the 
one, but my heart bolted out the other ! How mean was 
mine esteem of the fairest one that ever angels saw, or se- 
raphs sung 1 O that ever trifling avocations should have 
j'alled my meditations otf that work that would have kin- 
dled my love and heightened my joy I Why did I look 
always through a false medium, on every thing that con- 
cerned me ? Is it possible that this vast inheritance of 
glory could appear in mine eyes a little despicable island, 
that lay beyond an unknown ocean ? O ! hagt thou be- 
stowed on me the boundless inheritance of bliss, who once 
gave mine affections so much to a few miles square on thy 
fdotstool, that lay within the sea-mark of corruption and 
the curse ? \V as my love ardent to every other object but 
lae God of love ! Oh ! was mine esteem proportionate to 
their excellency, yea, was it not beyond Vv^hat all their 
c'-^cellenciesput together deserved, yet dea^ and dull, 
low and languid to the Father of lights, and Fountain of 
perfections? Why did not the fire of love burn contin- 
ually with a most vehement flame, a flame that many wa- 
ters could not quench ? Why did I not consider that 
thou wast love, and that this world, where I am now ar- 
ilved, ^vas a land of love, and that the song of the re- 
deemed is just the warmest breathings of divinest love. 
" To him that loved us?'' O what a hard, adamantine 
heart wa*g mtne^ that in the midst ©f so many fpicy fiavTi^' 



was not iiielted into love ! But here llie furnace is s^e^ 
times heated, and the cloudless emanations of eternal love 
make every grateful power of mind rise to the throne of 
God, like savory incense from the siaoaking altar. 



Can I ever forget, in this exalted state, my folly wheti 
in time ? How unbecomirfrg for an heir of heaven to take 
so much thought about the earth I Did my faith believe 
that such immense treasures were reserved for me in th^ 
land of promise ; and yet my unbelief distract me about 
the trifles of a day ? Where now is the advantage of alt 
my corroding cares, and disquieting f^^rethoughts? How 
imbecoming for one whose strength was ihe joy of the 
Lardy to feel grief for the perishing things of time 1 Why 
did I trke it in bad part to be poor in a world, where my 
dearest Saviour, whose hands founded the golden mines, 
beautified the sparkling diamond, and -enriched the pre?, 
eious stones with brilliant glow, lived and died in extreme 
indigence ? Why did any sorrow that \\'as bounded by^ 
time, and ended in death, disquiet my immortal part? 
Whatev^ei' I lost in time b^ng of a perifliing nature, could 
not enrich me now ; and it matlere not what be now and 
then burnt, w^hea^e all is' devoted to iire. 



Another error I was guilty of in the days of my pil- 
l^rimage below, was joy in the world ; and yet all that I 
was possessed of, when I came to the honv of death, c^uld. 
Neither avert the stroke, nor mitigate the pangs of disso- 
lution. How like the sons of sense and earth, to rejoice 
in that which is bestow^ed oo the base^st of men, and oi- 
ten tends to the basest of ends ! Neither tlic angef noj* 
the animal regard the golden sum ; and yet Vvas I, whose 
animal life could not be supported by such, nor mine p.n^ 
gelic expectation!? terminate tlier^, bewitched \vlth shin- 
ning dust ? Hov/ lonely had my passage been, O be^t Be- 
loved, through the valiey of death, for all the treasurer 
of the world, without thy presence ! Wiili triumph I- 
walk along the golden street, and v. ith endless joy ti am- 
^ile the shhiing metal, tbat durst once itivade my bean* 



THE VeaiiD ¥K£EE^'. 2T9 

mu\ decoy my affections from divine things I Ah ! was I 
«ver so stupid, so brutish, as to make any comparison be- 
tween riches and righteousness, gold and glory, earth and 
heaven, the creature and God ? Now I would not stop ray 
song one moment to give laws to the whole world, nor 
stir one foot from the throne of God, to sway the seep* 
tre over the nations. No^v I am happier than the nobles, 
higher than the kings of any land ! 



1T66. 

O King Eternal, how mn 1 changed since I came in* 
to thy presence ! the emanations of thy cloudless glory 
have made me exceeding fair ; and thou hast bestowed 
upon me excellent majesty. Whence is this, for a worm 
of thy footstool to rise into an angel before thy throne, 
and grow fairer and fairer in thy assimilating beams? 
Sin would not know me now, that often blackenetl my 
conscience, and saddened my countenance, for now my 
conscience sings, and my countenance shines, having full 
redemption in his blood. Who would say that ever my 
heart, which is now a garden inclosed for my well-beloved, 
was a field of battle, wliere the company of two armies 
daily set the battle in array ? Fellow-sufterers would 
not know me now, but take me for an ancient inhabitant 
of the land of bliss, and not for one that lately sojourn- 
ed in Mesech, and dwelt in the tents of Kedar. O what 
an heavenly change, what a divine metamorphosis is this ! 
in which all my powers of mind so deeply share. In the 
day of grace it was much to be like David the man of 
God ; but now in the year of glory, I am like the angel 
i>f God ; ah ! deeper wonder still ! like ths-God of avigdsj 
Hosanna, Hallelujah ! Selah. 



No wonder that in the wprld I did not think more of 
salvation and the work of redemption, fOr I dwelt in dark- 
ness, and tabernacled in clay ; but since I have entere^l 
within the vail, and come into the presence of God him- 
self, the mystery is revealed, and my enlarged powers of 
mind are oppressed with wonder and aijiaze ! I oii^ft 



thought that I was something, but since armved into tiie 
more immediate presence of the Being of beings, i seel 
am very nothing, a mere non-entity ! Now, had the shi- 
lling seraphims left their sparkling seats, and rapturous 
songs, to lead such eftmnets through the howling wilder- 
ness, it would have been a wonder ; but for him, at whose 
throne the prostrate angels fall, and on whose glory Ga- 
briel cannot look, the Father's fellow, the God of angels, 
the fountain of happiness, and the king of heaven, to de- 
scend to time, to clothe himself with flesh, to humble 
himself to death, and to encounter all the storms of his 
Father's tremendous wrath ! and that for the very wretch- 
es that rebelled against him, is, and will be the wondei*- 
of eternity I 



1T6T. 

Here in the highest heavens I see the extravagance 
of my folly, when on the footstool. How did I mourn 
for my expiring friend, as if I had never heard of immor- 
tality, and sorrow for the dead as one that had no hope ! 
To what purpose were my tears, mine anguish and my 
^vounded heart? did I dispute the will of God, or envr 
them their bliss ? did guch sadness in my countenance 
make my heart better ? Why did not faith behold afar off 
this happy day, when so few moments intervened between 
their decease and mine ? Now earthly relations are lost^ ' 
but not forgotten ; lost in thy dearer tie and diviner uni- 
ty of the heavenly family. 1 he dear infant retains not 
the putrid disease that snatched him from his parents arms, 
\mi appears beauteous as the smiling morning, and lovely 
as the sons of God. Not a gracious relative is lost, but 
meet here with mutual advantage. In some, imperfect 
grace and perverse nature might raise domestic storms, 
and impede their prayers at the throne ; while in otheris, 
too high esteem and fond delight might prove as fatal t© 
their soul's concerns : but now all sinful defects and law- 
less excess are removed, and we share in others' bliss, anff^ 
join in others' songs, triumphing oveT death and wealc-' 
^less through eternal day ! 



THE WOKXZ* u:\^Ejii?^ tiiSJt, 

WitijLi:; walking through the vale of teai's, kow many 
jiave my mournful melancholy Sabbaths been I While sin 
and satan, objects without, and distractions within, have 
harra^sed, how has the day been profaned, my mind per- 
plexed, and sadness seized on my soul, so that I have often 
pleaded a visit from the Lord of the Sabbath, and implo- 
red his pity against my foes, and lonj^ed for this eternal 
day of rest. Now, what streaming joys dilate my ravish- 
ed soul, to fmd myself possessed of everlasting J^abbath ! 
nothing from without, nothing from within, can defde my 
50ul, or distract my devotions. This is the day that I 
liave longed for ; and in thy presence, O thou Son of man, 
O thou majesty of heaven, shall eternity be one Sab- 
bath-day! and all the day shall I worship at thy 
ihrone, and the length of the day shall be the delight o1t 
my soul ; nor shall my sanctified heart need a constant 
"ivatcli, as one against her rovings, seeing it is essential 
to the perfect state^ and heavenly frame, to go out only 
mi God, 



1T69. 

The heirs of heaven need not take it amiss tiiat they 
are mourners while travelling through the fields of Bo- 
chim, the vale of Achor<. So short is the duration of 
their sorrow to the eternity of their song, that they have 
hardly time to heave the deep fetched sigh, till their heart- 
strings snap, and their joyful soul iiies into ihe'if heavenly 
Father's arms, and enters eternally into the joy of their 
Lord. 

Such is now my happy state above ; and thou^ in the 
dark night of time I mistook every mole-hill of trial for 
mountains of distress, yet it was only the shadow of trou- 
ble that attended me, the shadow of grief that way laid 
me, and the shadow of death that I walked through ; so 
that trouble could not distract me, grief could not destroy 
me, and death could not devour me. But now even sha- 
dowy evil is past, and solid, sure, substantial good is mine. 
I enjoy the essence of joy, the quintessence of bliss, even 
God in his own heaven, God in his ov^n Son ! noondays 
of glory, rivers of pleasures, fulne^'s of joy, oirean^ of ex- 
x2 



Stacy, ages of commimion, entrance ni)- every ravislied 
power. 



Feb, ITTT. 
How happy are all the hosts around the throne ! how 
content those who have been often disappointed I how 
cheerful the mourners, and how happy all the sons of sor- 
row ! Glory is such a weight, God is such a portion, that 
every power of soul is ravished and blessed above con- 
ception. O the fulness of the heavenly bliss I there i^ 
neither want nor wo, vanity nor vexation, preying on 
any soul; but God, in his divine perfections, fills and 
overflow^eth all. 



X YIII.— ^ check for not meditating on divine things. 

Jan* 1. 
Does my faith expect a kingdom, an heavenly king> 
dora, and a crown of glory that fadeth not away? and 
can 1 live days and weeks, months and years, without a 
Feal ardent desire to be put in possession of the promised 
land ? I wonder not so much that the wicked think noth' 
ing of heaven (for who admire unknown lands ?) as that 
the saints think so little of it, though now and then al- 
lowed to pluck the fruits of paradise ! Were the day fix- 
ed, on which I should make my appearance at an earthly 
court, to be created a peer, and continue in my princess 
favor and presence ever after till death, how often would 
my thoughts revolve the auspicious day, and feast on the 
imaginary, the transitory grandeur I And in the mean 
time, were it notified to me, that my sovereign would not 
only permit me, but would take it kindly, and expected 
that I should often meditate on the majesty of his throne, 
on the equity of his sceptre, on the immutability of his ^ 
laws^ on the wisdom of his government, on the riches of 
his treasures, on the sweetness of his favouj-, on the mu- 
nificence of his love, on all hi.s nchnirable pcrfectioi), and 
on the amiable pcisou of the prince-royal, the lieirof hi» 
iTOVvn^ s.ad beloved, of hjs ?onl, ] wmild nt^t need a te- 



THE WORLD V1S.HBZN. £8]^ 

;,id iiiviiation to these rueditations. Now, when all 
oese supposed excellencies in an earthly monarch are re- 
alized in the King Eternal, and in the King?s t^on ; and I 
am not only permitted, but invited and commanded to me- 
ditate on him, assured that the day is on wing when I 
shall be brought into the palace of the King, crowne(l 
with immortality, and serve him in his temple, evermore ; 
what a shame, what a sin, yea, what a loss is it, that my 
whole soul, in all her thoughts, meditations, desires, de- 
lights, longings, and outgoings, is not of God, and the 
things of God ! 



XIX. — Ajiprohaiion of trying providences. 

DecA770, 

O GOTERNOR of men and angels ! how well does it be- 
come me to be conformed to the Captain of my salvation, 
who was made perfect through offerings 1 Who ever ex- 
pected to find bright noon in the dark night, or serene 
^-iummer in the middle of stormy winter, or grottos, ar- 
bors, and flower-gardens, in a barren desart ? why then 
am I surprised that I stumble while travelling in the 
night, or that it rains and is sometimes very tempestuous 
in the winter-season ? or that I fiad barrenness in the des- 
art, and lose sight of my fellow-travellers in the dark ? I 
will count my aijiictions then, but I dare not quarrel : I 
will plead for compassion but I will not complain. Death 
;!»as so often preyed around me, th?.t J only am escaped 
'!i-ne to tell, tliatlhave neither father nor mother, sister 
nor brother, nephew nor.nJec^, nor any nearer relative. 
Yet, wben the Son of ri'j^kfeoitsness shall arise on me, I 
-shall share an eternal day above the reach of night, a se^ 
rene suminer where winter shall return no more : and a 
blooming paradise, and arbours of bliss, where there is no 
barren desart. Also, while I leave all my infirmities, and 
all my cdHictions in the vale of misery behind me, I shall 
find treasures of glory, rivers of pleasure, in thy presenre, 
fulness of joy at thy right hand for ever: Moreover, I 
shall find my religious friends in the better country, whose 
death I now bewail ! but verily I believe, I shall lose and 
-.>^-er]ook thei^i, n.sdx^ll the heavenly crowd, v>'bile enter- 



S^ CONVERGE ^ITH 

tained with better company, and admitted to more divine 
communion with Jehovah and the Lamb. 



XX. — Faith's triumph over affliction, 

Sept. 26, 1TT1>. 

In a little I shall be where I never Vi^as before, and 
where i now am, I shall never be again. "With every 
immortal, I shall be in eternity, and bid a final farewell 
t© time. I shall just be in that heavenly place where my 
happy meditations now are. In thy presence, O Saviour I 
at thy throne, O King of kings I shall I find my heaven. 
Sure, then, it can never become an expectant of so muck 
bliss, to be sad for any thing but sin, or to joy in any 
thing but in God. "When I am no more numbered with 
tlie living, but lamented over as a broken vessel, I shall 
mingle with the liosts of the living God, with the armies 
of light, and exult in my celestial privilege for ever. 

Like the rest of Adam's discontented family, I am of- 
ten grumbling at my griefs, complaining of my afllictions, 
and on tlie brink- of quarrelling at the conduct of Provi- 
dence itself. To be without afflictions is impossible be- 
low, where man is born to trouble as the sparks fly up- 
\vard ; not to feel when afflicted, is a steical is an impious 
stupidity ; but to sink under troubles of any kind, is be- 
neath the character of the Christian. Yet, when I re- 
ilect on that eternity of bliss w hich is before me, on that 
world of gloiy of which I am an heir in minority, I won- 
der that my afflictions are not rather more, than that they 
are so many. Is it much for me to stumble among the 
rough stones of adversity, to have my flesh pricked witk 
the thorns of trouble, who shall walk the golden streets 
of heaven, and wear a crown of immortal glory ? Though 
the whole earth should rise up against me, if heaven, 
and the God of heaven be for me, 1 am in perfect safety, 
^nd may sing my requiem in the midst of all the storms 
niid tempests?, whirlwinds and hurricaneis, that can blow. 



THE WORLB ^KSBEX, ^85 

'XXI. — A sweet prospect of future bliss. 

Kow soon I shall mingle with the inhabitants of the 
invisible world, I cannot say ; but I may assure myself 
it cannot be long. Why then converse I so seldom with 
the unseen workl ? why daily strike my roots deeper in- 
to this world, like an old tree, when, like an did tree, I 
must rhortly be cut down ? By kind providences, and 
gracious promises, I am hired .to be heavenly-minded, 
and W afflictions am I chastened for my carnality ; biat 
could my faith gel one sip of the heavenly banquet, I 
would long to sit down at the marriage-supper of the 
Lamb. What a rich feast is found in the kingdom of 
God, w^hich entertains thousaiids and ten thousands of 
happy souls through eternity ; and shall my immortal 
soul feed on the refuse of creation I I tread under foot 
the flowers of this footstool, and rise in ray ambition to 
the bliss of heaven, to the fruition of God. O what 
beams of glory shine on me ] what treasures open in my 
view I the all-sufficient goe^Z enjoyed through everlasting 
day by all the powers of my expanding, wondered, rav- 
ished, and enlarged mind. 



XXII. — The ravishing employment of saints in glory. 

May 22, 1TT4. 

It is owing to the richness of grace, v.ud stability of 
love, that I do not forfeit my title to the heavenly inher- 
itance, by taking so little delight in divine things, and b^- 
ing so captivated with tlie perishing creature I O fool 
that I ai*' ! to be busied about dust and ashes, and to de- 
light in a thing of nought ; for the whole creation shall 
at last be set on fire, and deceive for ever all the vota- 
ries of sense. Then, when admitted into thy unclouded 
and beatific presence, what a strange change shall take 
i)lace in ray pursuits ? I shall feel a frame of mind supe- 
rior to the claim of my faith, and ray soul shall be filled 
j'vlik rapttja-eg aever felt, H€ver knowifi below. 3Iy seOl 



W^ CjONTEUSE WITH 

shall largely open to the sacred emanations of tkeSeity, 
and exert all her ravished powers in searching the divine 
perfections, and through eternity pursue the blissful theme. 
Then, and not till then, shall I knov/ what it is to see God, 
to have communion and fellowship in their perfection 
with the Father, and with his Son, Jesus Christ, and, 
with saints and angels, to enjoy him in all his inexhausti- 
ble fulness. There shall not be an unemployed moment, 
nor an idle thought here. Crowns and kingdoms shall 
not excite one w^ish there (w^hy then should lesser things 
excite so many wishes now, since I am to be soon so 
there?) but God's infinite self shall be my all iji al! 
through eternity ! 



XXIII. — A reprehension for decay in grace. 

Dec. IT, 1T76'. , 

With tears of blood might I write bittetlamentationr 
over the deadness of ray soul, the darkness of my state ! 
Is the beloved of ray soul in heaven, and shall the love 
of ray soul grovel on the earth ? Has he who is fairer thaa 
the children of men, than the angels of God, lost all his 
beauty with me ? Has be no form nor comeliness that I 
should desire him, meditate on him, and long for him ? O 
the mad career of my unestablished mind, to hunt after 
shadows, vanity, wind, and let heaven and glory go ! O 
happy day of glory that is on the wing, v/hen sin shall 
poison ray pursuits no more; but all ray soul, with the ar- 
dor of heavenly love, and the vigor of perfected grace, 
shall search the adorskble perfections of God. 



XXIV. — Tlie noblest indifference. 

April 13, ITTb. 
The brevity of time, and the near approacji of eterni- 
iy, give to the rightly-exercised soul a noble indifference^ 
about every thing below. What matters it whether l| 
dwell in a palace or a prison, since it is but for a dayman 
laeur, a meraent I What disappointment should, paiti mej 



THE WORLD UXSEE^. ')l^7 

/iH time, if I shall posses God for eternity ? I look around 
Hie, unci see multitudes eager on the chace, keen in the 
pursuit of created good, forgetful that the world passeth 
awiiy. I look forward to the invisible world, and see 
multitudes in their eternal state, astonished at the stupi- 
' dity of saints and sinners, that the trifles of a day should 
with them preponderate so much. I als'o find myself in 
the deluded throng of trifiers, and condemn my own con- 
duct. An hundred years ago, O ye disembodied nations, 
some of you were inhabitants in time, and ere an hundred 
years hence, I shall dwell in eternity. Ye then strag- 
gled along the road of human life with care and concern, 
with burdens and bitterness, but now are forever at your 
jdurney's end; I am now travelling the thorney path, 
and shall also shortly arrrlve at home. Then there sliall 
be no diffierence between you and me, when both dwelling 
in the same eternal world ; and the interim is so short, that 
nothing that can befal me should either give pain or plea- 
sure. I am on the wing to the celestial paradise, and no 
blasts in my fape shall hinder my fligiit to the mount of 
God. The brevity of time may be bitter to the sinner, 
because torment and eternity seize him in the same rrxO- 
ment ; but it must aftbrd me joy, for the shorter ray time, 
the nearer to my endless felicity. Bodies can never be 
larger than the orbits in which they move ; then all the 
t'omplicate alHictions of lime must disappear when time is 
no more. Why, then, take deep thought, or long sor- 
row, or much joy, or lasting delight, at the ill or good of 
a fj'v Hying moments. My soul is immortal, and God is 
j^-icrual; therefore in thee below, and in thee above, in 
';;<:, ill time, and in thee in eternity, shall my soul find 
1 vjiindless pleasures and unfadinp: bliss. 



XXV.-— iVb happiness below. 

Nov. 18, ITTT. 

LVevkp- shall I attain to happiness, while I seek it in 
fll^ .creature, or expect it out of heaven ; and O how lit- 
tle concern have I with the things of time, v^ho am so fai 
on my journey towards eternity I When the world gets 
into the aiiections, there is aotbing but tumuU and dl^or* 

/ 



MS. COXVEKSE ^viTn 

der there ; this I have long found ; but wkeu Ueaveii? 
dwells within, the heart becomes a little heaven, and alt 
is peace and serenity, composure and joy. O I then, tt* 
keep the heart barred against enchanting trifles, and to 
live above every thing Velow. At the hour of death, I 
shall make my triumphant entiy into the New Jerusalem^ 
and from the walls of the holy city 1 shall bid defiance to: 
all the cares of life, the pleasures of sense, the armies p f 
cbiTuption, and the legions of hell. 



XX YI. — Gcd a nc::er fail lug 'portion. 

Bee. 12, 1TT8. 

With respect to this world, I ?leep but a part of everv 
day ; but with respect to a world to come, alas ! how long 
is my sleep, how little am I awake I O it is sad to be ta- 
ken up Avitli dreams and shadows, and to neglect eternal 
realities ! I am happy to be shaken out of my false con- 
fidences, and to hanii on my heavenly Father alone, and 
if disappointed in my support, it will not be owing to the 
instability of my prop, but to ray not leaning aright on 
him. How^ever, 1 am happy, and I claim to be happy with 
fcis rich grace and overflowing love,iu spite of all tempo- 
Js'al disasters, should the v>hole of my tloie be one series of 
disappointments, one continued tempest and storm, since 
the hour of death brings me safe to the other shore, where 
the enjoj^ment of God and the Lamb shall replenish my 
whole soul. 



XXYII. — God claims the whole heart, 

3Iai,' 50 A77^. 

O TO have communion w^th God in all things, and at 
all times ; and for this end I should keep for him my heart. 
If I am visited of a great friend, I must not speak twice 
to an impertinent neighbor that intrudes into our compa- 
ny, and but once to him, lest he take it amiss and depart ; 
I must not give some rascally acquaintance the chief seat 
in the best part of the room, and set him in the corcei'.. 



THE WORIB TJKSEEN. M9 

iQsi he grow angry, and be gone. Just so, Go*d expects 
my heart, claims ray meditations, and is affronted wheB 
jie is not in all ray thoughts. O ! then, to get my ido^ 
destroyed, ray meditations swept of vanities, and my he^ 
wholly kept for God. 



XX^jgDLI. — The best employment. 

June 13, lTr9. 
To prepare for a world to come may well employ rte 
while in this world, and the sweet hopes of the heavenly 
paradise may well support me while travelling through 
this earthly wilderness ; and when I arrive there, it thai! 
not diminish my bliss, that in my pilgrimage I had some- 
times storms and tempests in my face, clouds and thick 
darkness around rae, troubles and dangers in my way, ali- 
ens and enemies as my companions by the way, and that 
J was often walking witliout any company at all, or with 
company worse than none. When I arrive there, I shall 
iB^et such a view of the wisdom that conducted me along^ 
tjiat I shall not only approve of it, but admire, adore, 
..aind sing of it for ever. 



XXIX — On the death of friends. 

De(r.9, 1T8L 

If we TovG to converse vn\h our friends, or where the 
greatest part of our friends dwell, surely I should love to 
"converse much with the unseen world, where almost aH 
Bay friends are. Several years ago, death swept off all my 
^father's family, but him who now laments a second stroke, 
by which the complete half of my little family (the child 
•f mine own body, and the wife of my bosom) is carried 
into the unseen world. Thus Providence has torn my 
Ikmily to pieces, blasted my pleasant prospects, plucked 
up the olive-plant that might have graced ray table, and 
«ut down the fruitful vine that flourished by my house- 
sides, and thus made desolate all my company, so that I 
Ixave no peaj? friend to consult with about th« affairs of 
% 



^0 CONVERSE WITH 

this world, or the concerns of the unseen world. Now, 
if there was no other state than this, no other world bu£ 
the present, surely my situation were extremely melan- 
choly ; but there is a future state, an unseen world, that 
balances ail. so, while the tear starts in mine eye from 
affection to my friends, a triumph rises in my heart, from 
a faith of their felicity. The days of my monming will 
come to an end, but their happiness and hosannahs arc 
eternal I 



XXX. — Divine wisdom in our various lots. 

Nov. n, 1T83, 

The wisdom of the gardener is seen in the disposition 
©f his plants ; some he sets in the sun, others in the shade ; 
some in a rich, fat soil, others in a dry and barren ground ; 
and thus the nursery-nian's skill is conspicuous, for each 
thrives best in its own soil. Then, since Infinite Wisdom 
has allotted a great part of my life to sorrow and soli- 
tude (not that I complain) I may see that I could not 
grow in another soil. O that I be not unfruitful in this I 
Behind the high wall of adversity, and in the shade of 
affliction, the saints will bring forth fruits (humility, self- 
denial, resignation, patience, &c,) that cannot grow so 
well in the gun-beams of prosperity. Now, if another 
soil would be more agreeable to me, I should rather seek 
to change ray nature than my station ; for, were I that 
active vigorous plant that would abound in fruits under 
a bright sun, and in ^ rich soil, and not grow too luxuri- 
ant through pride, shake off ray unripe fruits through 
carnality, or rot through sloth and security, the heaven- 
ly husbandman would soon transplant me there, for he 
does not at3ict willingly, or grieve the children of men. 
No matter though, with respect to the things of time, I 
grow in the shade, if the Sun of righteousness shine on 
my soul, and make every grace to flourish. He knows 
better what lot is best for me than I do myself : and, in 
choosing it for me^ I am rsther to admire his wisdom, than 
complain of his conduct , the more so. when I consider 
t^^at, on a barren soil, and in a lonely shade, he cuh r^ 



ilHE WORLD UNSEEX. 



jptants that shall enjoy the noon of coramunioh, and bask 
iri the eternal beams of glory. 



XXXI, — The mind too little on heaven. 

Jan. 1, 1T86. 

At A 3 I how little do 1 converse with myself, how little 
with the unseen world, how little with God! and yet 
what various events in adorable Providence call for my at- 
tention ! With God there is a time to give, and a time 
to take ; a time to remove, and a time to restore ; a time 
to afflict, and a time to comfort ; but all these things point 
me to my latter end, and admonish me to converse with 
the unseen world. Now, what solid consolation may this 
yield to me, that he who is my best friend, is Supreme 
Governer over all ; and vAll shortly, through all events, 
bring me to the eternal enjoyment of himself 1 



XXXII.—- r/ie duty of the aged saint. 

March 1, i79S. 

The kind providences of my lot, command my grati- 
tude to Heaven, my entire dependance on his arm, and 
peace and composure in my breagt. But the heavenly 
promises of being brought home to glory, and satisfied for 
ever with his likeness, may shed a little heaven through 
my breast ; amd that I am so far advanced in life, may 
rather cheer than distress me. O how vain and uncertain 
is this world, but how sweet and sure the unseen world, 
towards which I look ! When Hezekiah got thie message 
of his death, he turned away his face from his courtiers, 
his officers of state, and his attendants, towards the wall, 
for none of our friends can attend us through the dark 
valley ; so in view of my approaching dissolution, I 
should turn my face, my affections, away from all created 
things. I am now, like the Israelites, arrived on the ve^ 
ly banks of Jordan, and just, waiting for the command to 
pass over ; and till that day come, I wish by the eye of 
,M^ to terke pleg^ant and repealed views of tUo iiy^eeii 



.-9£ CONVER. - WITH 

world, to wean me from this wil( 

land to me, and to encourage rae in view oi pasijin^ over . 
the river. Israel dwelt forty years in the desart, but vvheiyf 
-they left it, they left it for good and all, and never pitclj^; 
ed a tent there again, or expressed the least desire of re-^i 
turning thither ; just so, though I should dwell seventy J 
years in this weary world, yet when called away, O with | 
what cheerfulness will I quit the land of my pilgrimage,^- 
the place of mine exile, aod when gone, I Aallbe gone 
for ever, and raise a triumphant song at being entered on 
mine everlasting rest ; and being set for ever free ixom 
.sin and earth," from infirmity and der^'^' 



XXXIII. — Affikliow will attend us to our last. 

Dec. 16, 1794. 

Should I be surprised at saffbring like thera that hav« 
gone before me I However numerous or uncommon 
isome of my afflictions may be, I thereby am conformed to 
the happy souls before the throne, who came out of great 
tribulation ajid fiery trials. I am to acquit Sovereignty 
in the kind (though I may be ready to say, Is there any 
trouble like my trouble wherewith the Lord hath aflJictefil 
me ?) and in the continuance of my afflictions, while only 
^n in the instrument, and sin in myself, are to cause me 
dai^j grief. But Divine Ix)ve, Infinite Wisdom, and 
Sovereign grace, can turn this shadow oC death into the 
morning, ajfid out of this roaring lion briDg fo^ih fffffi ^ 
>nv soul* . / 



ms END, 



I 



